Unfavorable Odds
by BlackRoseOpal
Summary: 12-year-old Hake Poseidon, son of the victor from the 4th Quarter Quell is reaped for the Hunger Games from what is most likely rigged. With all the odds stacked against him, Hake must endure the most brutal Games yet, all aimed his death.
1. Rigged

**Quick note: If you HAVEN'T read my story "Swimming through Blood" read that one first, because this is the sequel to that story, which if you haven't figured out how the Hunger Games work, would be a huge spoiler. So if you haven't read it...shoo...get out of here...**

* * *

"And our male tribute is….Hake Poseidon!"

My heart plummets to my stomach. My mother was right.

My mother, Ariel Poseidon who was the victor of the fourth quarter quell twelve years ago, always warned me of the day I would be eligible for the Reaping. She never let me watch her Games, but I picked up what happened from my fellow classmates at school and their parents who _were_ allowed to watch it.

"_Since that day,"_ my mother had once said, _"the Capitol has probably been planning their revenge on me."_

Now I know what she truly meant.

All those torturous hours of training, learning how to handle any and every weapon physically possible.

It was all for today.

I step up to the stage next to my cousin, Maggie Hydra who is thirteen. Pearl Korl calls out for volunteers as she did for Maggie, but once again, there is only the whistling of the ocean breeze that reaches my ears, and the sound of Aunt Ray's crying in the back.

Her only daughter.

My mother's only son…

…Only she isn't crying.

I've never seen her cry.

"None?" says Pearl with an exaggerated pout. "Alright then. Let's give a round of applause for this year's tributes, Maggie Hydra and Hake Poseidon!"

A light applaud, like the faint sound of rain pounding on a tin roof echoes through the large crowd. I turn and shake hands with Maggie who is trembling, holding a straight face, but her watery eyes give everything away. I give her hand a reassuring squeeze even though I'm terrified myself. Only one or neither of us will make it back.

A thirteen-year-old victor is rare, there have only been 2 in the history of all 112 Games.

A twelve-year-old Victor; now that _is _unheard of. Only one, from District 11, but he was abnormally big for his size and easily overpowered his fellow tributes. I think that was three years ago.

The youngest victor from District 4 was our very own Finnick Odair, and he was 14. I turn to see him next to my mother. His face is aged, but the girls at school describe him as rugged and sexy. I shiver at the thought.

My mother, she is still very young, and very beautiful, but she says I look more like my father. Short brown hair, that I keep spiked like he used to, and then blue eyes. My mother said that's what made her fall in love with my father.

He died in the Games, sacrificing himself for my mother, and apparently me as well.

Maggie and I are escorted to the Justice Building, crusted with salt built up from the sea mist. The inside smells sweeter, like someone poured perfume on the upholstery. I sit in a separate room and wait for visitors. My mother isn't able to visit me. She has other things to attend to being a mentor and all.

I don't really feel surprised to be sitting here, waiting for loved ones to wish me luck or to say good-bye. I think back on the hundreds of times my mother warned me of this day ever since I first picked up a sword, which was apparently my father's choice weapon.

I wish I could have known him.

My first visitor is my grand-mama. Her wrinkled face is stained with tears as she sits down next to me on the velvet couch and just hugs me. I'm really skinny and I'm short so it hurts a little when she hugs me so tightly.

This is really discouraging.

"Listen to me," says grand-mama. "Your mother got through the Games when everything was against her and so will you."

So everything is against me?

"But-" Don't say it, Hake, just shut up. "What about Mags?"

A choked sob breaks from grand-mama's throat and she squeezes me tightly.

"I don't know."  
That's the last thing she says before walking out.

The only noises I hear for a good five minutes is the clock ticking back and forward, then I jump as the clock strikes eleven.

Just as it looks like there won't be any more visitors, my Uncle Wiff, who looks about as much as my dad as anyone, so at least I know a little of what he looks like, other than the pictures. He comes and sits on the coffee table across from me and ruffles my spiked hair.

"Your dad was a fighter, you know that?" he says with half a smile. "So are you. I've seen you with a sword…actually with just about any weapon. You'll do fine."

Again, Maggie's safety floods my brain. Has anyone visited her? Does anyone care about her? Sure she's not the child of a victor but she's still a huge part of this family! What about Mags?

Uncle Wiff gives me a long hug, and then I he is torn away by a large Peacekeeper. He cusses them out until the door slams in his face. The same Peacekeeper approaches me and takes my arm to escort me to the car.

Maggie is already in there, cheeks and dark eyes red and puffy from crying. Her brown hair hangs in curls over her face, casting shadows from the morning light on her face. I hold out my hand to her and she takes it tightly in hers.

"Who visited you?" I ask her.

"My mom." Her voice is as fragile and shaky as glass teetering on the eye of a needle. "And… and Aunt Salacia." My grand-mama. "And some friends from school."

I nod and squeeze her hand again.

"I…I know…" She sniffs. "I know that this is a little early…but, we're going to be allies right?"

I hadn't even thought of the actual Games since this morning when I overheard my mother and Aunt Ray discussing last year's Games and how the arenas are becoming more and more intricate and wild.

"Yes," I answer, hugging her tightly. "We're going to be allies." I think for a moment. "But hey, Mags, we're technically Careers, remember? We'll be fine!"

Somehow that didn't seem to cheer her up in the least bit.

Mags and I cling to each other for the whole car ride to the train station.

Inside, our housing cars are much like our house in Victor's Village, but this is much more luxurious. And there is a button for everything, even the clothes. I go over to the closet and push a few buttons. Soon a pair of soft blue pants and a black shirt pops out in front of me. I shed my button up shirt and tie along with my khaki pants and get into the extremely comfortable clothing.

I meet Mags in the hall and we both walk to the dining car where Finnick and mom are waiting. Finnick leans against the table, running his finger along the rim of a wine glass while my mother leans forward with her elbows propped up, rubbing her temples. When she sees me she gets up so fast that the chair falls from behind her. I am immediately wrapped in her arms, as is Mags. Another round of tears erupts from Mags' eyes.

"Shh," my mother hushes. "It's alright." She pulls us to the table. "Come on. You guys need to eat."

Food is the last thing on my mind, mom, but I'll humor you.

I sit next to Finnick, who keeps glancing my way in a weird manor. I finally put my fork down and turn to him in my chair.

"Mr. Odair," I say slightly annoyed. "Why do you keep staring at me?"

"Hake," my mother says harshly. Finnick chuckles and takes a sip of his wine.

"Nothing," he says. "It's just…" He laughs again. "You look a hell a lot like your father. It's the Quarter Quell all over again."

I look over at Mags, reminded of how in the 4th Quell, every girl was paired with a male member of her family.

"Yea," I say quietly, still looking at my _cousin._ "It sure is."

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**A/N:** So what do you think of Hake? Maggie? Let me know!


	2. Why do they look at me like that

The train ride is long and awkward, but I'm glad to have my mother with me. Maggie spends most of her time cuddled in mother's arms, either crying or resisting the urge to cry. She sometimes asks me why I don't cry. I suppose it's because I've been slightly prepared for this day because my mother cautioned me about this day.

"But one of us, or both of us will die," she says, sniffling. My mother uses the sleeve of her light blue shirt to wipe Maggie's face again. Today is the day we'll be pulling into the Capitol and meet our stylists.

"Hey, Ariel," says Finnick, entering the room in nothing but a towel. Maggie's eyes widen with shock and she buries her head in my mother's shoulder.

"Yes, Finnick?" my mother says with a sigh.

"Did you know we got new stylists this year?"

My mother's eyebrows rise in instant curiosity.

"Really?" she says. "They got rid of Fish-Lady?"

"_Angel_ retired," says Finnick, filling his breakfast plate with food. "We have a promoted stylist from 11."

Mother's face instantly falls,

"Isn't she the one who dressed up her tributes as fruit?"

Finnick shakes his head.

"No that the one before her. Don't you remember, Ariel? Two years ago, the stylist- I think his name is Heral. He was the one that created the really cool grass skirt for the girl with the flowers and the vine woven pants for the guy." He chuckles for a moment. "Hey, maybe you guys won't have to dress up as a _flying_ _fish_ this year!"

I can see the glare in my mother's eyes. That must have been what she wore for the opening ceremonies. But then her look softens a bit.

"She did make beautiful dresses though," she says quietly. "I wonder what happened to those old things."

Finnick shrugs and l props his feet up on the coffee table before him. Suddenly, the windows that reveal trees whizzing by are replaced with progressively high rising buildings of bright colors and sharp angles. We are in the Capitol. Maggie sits up and rubs her eyes for a moment, taking in the size of the entire city.

"Welcome back to the Capitol, Miss Poseidon," says an attendant as we step off the train. Finnick and my mother are quickly swept away to complete their duties as mentors; Maggie and I are greeted with flashes of cameras and the buzz of interviewers, asking questions even they know they won't get the answers to. Maggie starts to cry again and I squeeze her hand as we walk to the car that waits to take us to the Training Building. This car is much nicer than the one back in 4, and is really long. It could probably fit a dozen people, but it's only Maggie and I who curl up in the back seats.

"Hey, Maggie," I whisper. She looks at me with red eyes once more.

"You probably shouldn't cry so much," I continue. "You might not get any sponsors."

I can see the guilt in her face and she quickly wipes her eyes again.

"You're right," she says, her tiny voice barely audible. "It's just so scary."

I nod in agreement. It is scary. No, it's terrifying. I recall watching all the other Reapings with my mother, Maggie and Finnick who actually had his wife Annie with him. I think they make an exception her to be here.

Anyway, the two from District 1 didn't look too scary, but they were both very beautiful and are sure to get plenty of sponsors. Gold hair, emerald eyes. Most District 1 tributes look like this. But these two. The girl, Amber, has the brightest brown eyes, like gold, and this strange kind of hair color that starts out a chocolate brown as it cascades in layers down her back, then fades into a fiery reds about midway to the tips. It is actually really pretty. The boy, Zeus, has a much built physique with blonde hair that he keeps spiked above his head. But his eyes are the deepest blue.

Mother said that he reminded her of my father, Mako.

The volunteers from District 2 are the scary ones. They always are. The girl has the strongest looking legs- she must be a runner. Her hair is a board straight jet black sheet that falls to her cheeks. The boy, Rex, has a shaved head, but you can see small hairs starting to grow up like cut grass on his scalp. He's enormous, larger than Zeus with a long jagged scar that cuts down his left cheek. From training maybe?

The only other tributes that stand out are the two tributes from 3 who look absolutely genius, and the one boy from 7 who actually looks about twelve. Maybe we can ally.

We pull up to the Training Building and are escorted into an elevator that shoots us up to the fourth floor in matter of seconds. The attendants show us to our rooms to change and then tell us to go to the main room in an hour.

"See you in an hour," says Maggie, retreating into her room. She's probably gone to cry some more. Get it all out. I enter my room which is amazing. Our mansion in Victor's Village is very luxurious, but this- this is makes my home look like a beach shack. There are buttons everywhere. So many that I can't help but try out as many as I can. All the flashing colors and shapes send me spiraling around the room in juvenile curiosity.

Before I let my childish instincts get the best of me, I return to the closet where I had pressed about five different buttons which caused about four different outfits to spit out onto my bed. I choose the one with the green shirt and brown pants with sandals. I hate wearing close toed shoes, even when my mother has tried to break me of that.

My stylist, Heral, greets me with a strange expression, almost as if he is slightly disgusted by me. I've been greeted that way since forever simply because my mother and father were never married.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hake," says Heral, yanking his hand from my grasp. "You have a strong handshake for someone so small and young."

"Thank you, sir," I say. "I admire the work you have done in District 11." I smile, trying to gain his favor. "You are truly an artist."

His eyebrows, dyed a deep aqua, rise in surprise, and a grin curls across his bright blue lips. He is covered head to toe in every shade of blue imaginable. Showing teams spirit I suppose.

"Why thank you." He beams. "I can't way to show you my current idea for you and—uh." His eyebrows scrunch together.

"Maggie?" I say. Heral snaps his fingers.

"Yes her!" he says. "Well I'm not her stylist. I'm not in charge of remembering her name. That's Gucci's job."

There is an awkward silence among us before I decide to speak up once more.

"So what will the Opening Ceremonies costume be for me and Mags?" I ask. Heral smiles widely again,

"Tell me, Hake. How much do you know about your father?"

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**A/N**: I know I"m not putting as much into these chapters as Swimming through blood, probably because it's just one POV. But if there's anything you guys would like to suggest, go right ahead. I love getting ideas from fans. ^_^


	3. The crowd is so big

**Maggie's POV (yea yea I know I said I was going to keep it with Hake. Old habits die hard)**

This woman, Gucci, keeps prodding and probing me as if she's expecting me to grow wings and fly away.

"Why do you keep poking me?" I finally ask. Gucci scoffs and backs up.

"To see how our costume idea will work on you, darling," she says, thickly accented with the Capitol slur. She walks around me again, raking her eyes up and down my naked body.

"A bit heavier than I would have desired, but you will do."

Did she just call me fat!

"Excuse me ma'am," I say, trying to be polite. "But what is the costume going to be anyway?"

Gucci giggles, a really high, whiny sort of thing that makes my ears ring,

"We're kind of going backwards a little bit," she says. "Did you ever watch the fourth Quarter Quell?"

I nod. I remember my mom and dad always having to turn it off whenever Hake came to visit because Aunt Ariel never allowed him to watch. I never understood why though. Now, he could learn a lot from it.

"And?" I press. Gucci sighs and orders an Avox to fetch the costume and hands me a robe to cover myself for the time being. The soft fabric feels amazing on my skin and I don't want to change when the Avox returns with a clothing bag that I see people carry dresses around with.

"Here we go," says Gucci, unzipping the bag, pulling out a wet suit of some sort. "In you go."

She and the Avox zip me in until I'm snug inside the wet suit, which is clearly made out of a material not meant for swimming, but it looks like the real thing.

"You're dressing us up in the Quarter Quell arena uniform?" I say. "That's not very creative."

"Oh ye of little faith," Gucci sighs.

* * *

**Hake's POV**

Heral helps me slip into what appears to be a wetsuit, but more hemmed and the designs across the fabric depict a storm at sea. It's strange because when Heral flips a switch on the controls that are on my back, the images begin to move as if the sea is actually churning the ship across my torso, arms, back, and then back around in a continuous moving picture.

"Woa!" I cry. "This is incredible!"

For a while the ship disappears from the fabric and then returns after a few minutes.

"I guess it was on Maggie's outfit," says Heral, scanning me for the ship.

"Well it certainly looks like District 4," I say. "But why are we dressed in a wetsuit? Don't you think something with more fabric would look more like a screen or something?"

Heral raises an eyebrow.

"Well, that's the symbolic part about it." He narrows his gaze. "You don't know much about your father during the Games do you?"

I shake my head.

"Looks like Ariel will have to show you the Fourth Quarter Quell eventually," he says. "You may learn a thing or two about him."

I nod and look at myself in the mirror. They've spiked up my hair and drawn on my face with this strange makeup that makes it look like water is running down my skin.

"You ready for the Opening Ceremonies?" says Heral, gesturing me out to the area where Maggie and I will be placed on the chariot with the rest of the tributes. "Be sure to smile and act excited."

"But I'm not," I mutter. The stables are clean and well kept. Our chariot waits with the stormy gray and blue painted horses. I see Maggie with Gucci, wearing the same thing I am; the ship is tossing and turning on her clothing now. Our stylists arrange us on the chariot so that when the ship leaves Maggie's clothing it immediately shows up on mine as if it crossed over itself.

"Ready?" says Maggie, shakily grabbing my hand.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I say to the ground; then I look up. "Hey did Gucci tell you anything about these outfits?"

"Yea." Maggie looks down on the ship that is currently sailing around our legs. "She said that the wetsuits are what Aunt Ariel and Uncle Mako wore in their Games. And the ship in the storm is supposed to be symbolic for what happened to Ariel's family."

A feeling of horror falls over me. How dare they exploit my family's tragedy! The ship that is supposedly the one my mother's male family members died in sails up Maggie's waist and around her back.

"That's awful!" I cry. Before I can complain more, our chariot jerks into motion and I nearly fall backward. The District 3 tributes in front of us are wearing skintight suits that have designs of a circuit board on them. They're a lot like us, but when we appear, a resounding "Ooh" ripples through the crowd. I can see the eyes follow the ship across our bodies and then suddenly the storm that brews at our shoulders explodes in a flash of lightning and the audience jumps back and applauds.

I think we've won the crowd.

I completely forget about looking excited and just stare, jaw dropped at the thousands of people that watch us. I then see our picture on a big screen television in the middle of the city square. We are literally displaying a dangerous storm at sea across our clothing. I guess the Capitol people never get bad weather here because they stare at us as if we've grown wings.

"They really like us," Maggie whispers. "Wave at them!"  
She blows kisses at the audience and I watch her for something to build on. All I can do is awkwardly wave and smile out of the corner of my mouth.

We reach the end of the parade and President Agatha Snow steps up to the podium to give the annual speech about the Games being open.

I can't help but see through this mask that everyone is putting on. I look over to the boy from District 7 who is clad in overalls, a plaid shirt, with a giant axe that is clearly too heavy for him to lift. Although he's smiling, he looks utterly terrified.

I'm sure most of these people are. I certainly am.

* * *

**A/N:** There we go! It's been a while since I've updated. And yes, I'm taking my reviewer's advice and doing the multiple POV thing. Like I said, old habits die hard.


	4. Is that my dad

**Hake's POV**

I sit by myself after the Opening Ceremonies. Maggie has gone into her room to get some rest, but I'm not the least bit tired. The loveseat I lounge on is very plushy and comfortable, even more luxurious than our home back in Victor's Village. The thought makes me homesick. I absently turn a roll around in my hands, not even hungry. I'm not sure why I ordered food. Because I can, maybe?

"Hey Squirt."

I jump and whirl around to see Finnick leaning against the door frame, holding a strange disc in his hand.

"Hello Mr. Odair."

"It's Finnick if you please," he says, leaving his post and squatting at the television in front of the loveseat.

"What are you doing?" I ask. "And where's mother?"

"Sleeping," he replies flatly, inserting the disc into the player and taking a seat in a chair next to me. "I figure this would be the only time I would get to show you."

"Show me what?" I ask, watching the television sputter to life. What comes up on the screen automatically answers my question.

**100th Hunger Games- 4th Quarter Quell**

"This is-"

"Yep," says Finnick, taking a roll from the bowl of bread I ordered. "Your parents' Games."

I am half-way about to protest when I see the listings of the tributes and my parents, nearly thirteen years younger show up on the screen. Mako, my father really looks a lot like what I will probably look like in a few years. But what really surprises me is mother. Her youth has not changed much, but then again, she is still very young.

It takes me but a moment to remember about the special condition of this Quell. For each female tribute reaped, her counterpart was the closest male relative in her family. I see a father and a daughter, twins, sisters and brothers, grandfathers and granddaughters, even fellow cousins. But mother is the only one with my father, her boyfriend at the time in with her since all her male relatives died in a fishing accident.

Since my mother was the Victor, the video focuses more on her. During the reaping and they call my father's name, she becomes beside herself and breaks down crying.

"Woa," I breathe out. I still cannot get over how small mother looks, and she has longer hair in this movie. It's strange to see her as a teenager. I watch as if hypnotized as the film goes through the training days. Something tells me this has been meticulously edited because there isn't much of it, but there is a bit of her talking with Mako. They appear to be fighting, but since there is music and a narrator over it, I can't tell what they're saying.

"_Here our Victor, Ariel is shown conversing with her fellow tribute about the importance of making allies. Mako, her counterpart refuses to join the career pack and goes solo in training and into the arena."_

"Wait," I say as they show the interviews. "Mom was a career?"

Finnick smiles and nods,

"Yes indeed Squirt. But she didn't know the first thing about fighting or survival."

"But then how did she win?"

"Just keep watching."

I nod and watch the interviews. I can't stop watching my father. It's a strange sensation, feeling so close to someone you don't even know. My hand instinctively goes to my neck where the shark tooth necklace that used to be his hangs on a thin leather strap.

Finnick and I continue to watch as the Games begin. The arena is an enormous underwater environment. The tributes are dressed in wetsuits and clad with two oxygen tanks with propellers at the end. I assume those are for the ones who cannot swim.

It doesn't really help because a lot of the tributes are stuck struggling at the surface while the rest swim for the Cornucopia that floats in the center of the arena, bubbles containing supplies orbit the golden horn. I almost miss it because they only pay so much attention to the rest of the tributes but Mako swims so fast with the propellers at full speed and he grabs a medium sized blue backpack and swims away into one of the hundreds of caves dug out by the arena engineers.

"D-dad," I whisper. The name is so foreign to me and it almost tickles to say it. The cameras go back to mother, who is panicking in the midst of the bloodbath, having gotten a hold of a harpoon gun, but she is doing absolutely nothing with it as her fellow careers finish the battle and then swim to the top to kill off the ones struggling at the surface.

"Seriously," I say. "How has she survived this far?"

Finnick shushes me and tells me to keep watching. I scoot to the edge of the love seat and watch more as both mom and…my dad…go through countless trials, tracking jelly-fish, teaming up with the nine-year-old from District 5, betraying the Career pack and reuniting. It's strange to see my parents like this, young and crazy in love.

Only dad is at the Feast while mom waits back in their cave and the girl from 2 is killed by a shark—well—dad kills her but it's more like putting her out of her misery. The boy from 12 dies as well.

Then the girl from 12 dies a little later and soon it's only the man from 1, Garnet and then my parents.

"Pay attention, Squirt," says Finnick. "This is why your mother won."

I watch as a giant squid herds my parents to Garnet who stabs my mother from behind. Wait that should have killed her, right? I don't see her anymore as my father attacks Garnet in a fury of underwater sword fighting and eventually kills Garnet. The canon fires and he swims over to where mom is floating lifelessly, bleeding profusely from her back.

_"I-I'm sorry, I didn't-_," says mother, but dad stops her.

"_Shh. Don't speak, Ariel. Just relax. Save your energy. Take slow breaths."_

_"I c-can't._" Her lungs must be damaged. "_Mako, I love you_."

"_Stop it! Don't you dare say good-bye!"_ my father snaps. "_But…I love you too."_

Mother's eyes glaze over and she loses consciousness. What happens next is what Finnick wanted me to watch this whole time. He takes off her mask and his and kisses her, then takes a deep breath through his mask before securing it to her face so she can breathe. Then he takes the knife that sits in mother's belt and turns away from her, waiting only a moment before plunging the knife into his heart.

"Dad!" I cry involuntarily, then shake my head, confused to all the feelings enveloping me. Why am I watching this with such anticipation? It's not like I expected them both to win. That wouldn't make any sense.

The canon fires, they announce mother as the victor and retrieve her from the arena, repairing her lungs, taking special precaution as they find out she is pregnant with me.

"What is this!"

The all too familiar angry voice of my mother comes from the doorway and Finnick and I whirl around to see her.

"Ariel!" says Finnick. Mother's face is red with fury and she flies over to the television, switching it off. Finnick stands up to face her, but the height difference doesn't intimidate her at all.

"How dare you show this to my son!" she cries. "I said I would never allow him to watch it!"

"Why?" Finnick snaps back. "To make sure he doesn't recognize the fighting strategies he may have dormant in his veins from his father?"

"That's not the point!" Ariel cries. "It's-"

"Mommy…"

She looks down at me and her expression immediately softens. I can feel tears streaming down my cheeks, my voice feeling smaller and younger than ever.

"It was…it was my father…" I try to say, a sudden emotion overwhelming me. "I'm glad I got to see him, mom. If it was just in the Games. I got to see what he did for you…for us…"

Mother's lip quivers dangerously and she buries her face in her hands. Finick places a hand on her shoulder and says he will leave us alone and excuses himself. I shake with juvenile sobs and hold out my arms for my mom to take me up and cradle me as we cry together.

I don't know, but something deep down tells me this is the first time my mother has cried over dad in a long time.

* * *

**N/A**: Crap, that was almost painful. I've been very much in pain trying to be inspired to write... I'm going to go take a nap.


	5. Our first allies?

**Hake's POV**

Today is our first day in the Training Center. Mother tells me since I already adept with every weapon that my personal trainer has thrust into my hands that I need to work on survival skills. She points out the wild vegetation station and says I should start there. Finnick is coaxing Maggie over to the wrestling station. I think he said something about her being big enough to hold a career down.

I sigh. Everyone looks down on Maggie because of her weight. I feel really bad for her.

"Hello there," says the trainer at the station I am at. "You must be Ariel's son."

I nod shyly and scratch the back of my head.

"Yes ma'am," I reply. The lady goes on to show me the multiple plants for each different environment. I'm starting to hope we don't get a rainforest because it seems as if there are just as many deadly bugs and plants as there are edible ones. We don't spend too much time on the desert 'cuisine' but I can't help but notice how some plants look like they could easily cure you of hunger or thirst but really they dehydrate you more or poison you. It's all so fascinating. I hope I can remember it. I spend about an hour more at the station and then move onto the camouflage station. Maggie meets me there with a puffy face and she seems out of breath.

"You ok, Mags?" I ask her as she paints me into a rocky terrain. She tells me about the wrestling ring and javelin throwing station. In the ring, she was paired with the boy from 3. He's pretty tall, but very lanky with unruly red hair. Maggie continues to tell me about the Avoxes couldn't land a single hit on him. He simply shifted his weight and slid out of the way, he even went _towards_ the attackers and threw off their balance. She said he called it Thai-chi or something like that.

"It was like watching a dance of some sort," she says, wiping off the gray paint from my face. "He was so graceful. And he was very kind. I think we should ally with him and his partner."

"What's his name?" I ask.

"Zeit. I think his partner's name is Ren." Maggie leans in. "She's really weird."

I glance over to where Zeit and Ren are at the knot tying station and watch as Ren creates a noose and proceeds to pretend to hang herself. Zeit sighs and unties her. They appear to know each other pretty well.

"I think we should move on to another station," I suggest, my eyes still on District 3. "Want to go to the pool?"

"No, we know how to swim fine," Maggie adds. "How about the fire starting station?"

I agree and we make our way over.

* * *

**Ariel's POV**

I sit in the living room of our floor, four stories above the Training Center. Finnick downs his second shot of liquor and stares comprehensively at the television screen that shows the tributes training.

"Why is Maggie not learning to handle a damn weapon?" he mumbles. "She's going to get shanked right off the platform."

I try to shove Finnick's ranting out of my mind and focus on Hake's training. I'm glad he's staying away from the weapons, and Maggie also seems to have made an ally with District 3. That's not bad. Some of the best victors have won through brains and not brawn. I think back through the Games and remember Beetee and Wiress, the famous victors, Nuts and Volts. They both used their intelligence to win, in a very strategic matter too.

Most of the other tributes are busy swinging swords and trying to shoot a bow. There's the pair from five who appear to be mimicking Hake's and Maggie's footsteps from station to station, but that's not uncommon.

"And look, she can't even start a fire," says Finnick, pointing to Maggie. "I'm tellin' ya, we District 4's aren't meant to deal with fire. We're soaking wet eighty percent of the time. The other twenty we're asleep!"

I glance at Finnick askance and raise an eyebrow at him. He's a tad tipsy, but nothing like the old victor from 12 who died about five years ago. Haymitch Abernathy, what a piece of work he was. Won the Quarter Quell he did, and then spent the rest of his life drinking it away.

I refuse to fall to that level. And I lost the exact same things he did. His family, and his true love.

* * *

**A/N**: Heeeeeey guys, sorry I haven't updated in centuries. Thanks to **epicbookworm** for reminding me about my commitment to this story! (and sorry this chapter is so short)


	6. They can't be trusted

**Hake's POV**

"Mags, what are you even going to do for your private session?" I ask, turning a roll around in my hands. I sit with Maggie in the lunch hall with the rest of the spread out tributes. Maggie just shrugs at my question and glances down the table. The careers sit at the end of the same table as us, but they are otherwise occupied with their own conversation. Amber takes notice of our distance and picks up her tray to move towards Maggie and me.

"Why aren't you sitting with the rest of us?" she asks, her voice low and sultry. "You guys are careers just like the rest of us."

Maggie looks at Amber as if she were a goddess, as if she weren't worthy of speaking to such a beautiful person.

"Um..." She stammers. "I suppose so." She picks up her tray and follows Amber before turning back to face me; I haven't moved. "You coming, Hake?"

I think for a moment, and then manage to catch sight of Zeit and Ren at a table at the other side of the lunch hall.

"In a minute," I say. "Ok?"

Maggie follows my gaze and then looks back at me confusedly. She and Amber exchange strange looks before sitting down to rejoin the careers. I, after a moment in thought, pick up my tray and make my way over to District 3's table. Zeit and Ren both glance up at me with the strangest expressions.

"Hey," I say quietly. "C-Can I talk to you guys?"

Zeit looks at Ren who simply shrugs, her short hair, red but not as bright as Zeit's, bob as she tilts her head in a bubbly manner.

"Why aren't you sitting with the careers?" she asks boldly. Zeit places his hand on her arm as if in defense and speaks for the both of them,

"Why do you need to talk to us?"

"Well...may I sit?"

Zeit just nods, his pale face almost expressionless as his eyes follow my movement.

"I think we should be allies," I say. Both Zeit and Ren's eyes widen in surprise and they exchange glances of shock.

"I don't trust the careers," I say. "Mother always taught me-"

"Wait," says Ren. "Aren't you the kid who's dad killed himself in the arena?"

"To save my mother." I nod. "And myself. Yea that's me."

Ren's expression softens as if she's been told a wonderful love story. I think for a moment. The 100th Hunger Games basically was a love story, if not a tragic one, for my parents.

"You're parents weren't careers either, were they?" she continued.

"My father, Mako, wasn't from the beginning, but for a while my mother was."

"I remember that." Zeit turned to Ren. "That rerun we watched, remember? After Thor's birthday?"

Ren nods, humming to herself.

"Yea," she says with a mouthful of chicken. "That was the year with the giant fish tank as an arena."

"Essentially," I concur. "So anyway, my mother taught me never to trust the careers. That I can find better allies with the tributes who do not immediately go into the arena bred to kill."

Zeit nods as if he understood where I was coming from. Before I can continue, Maggie materializes out of nowhere and sits down with us.

"Hake, aren't you coming to sit with us?" she asks. "Zeus wanted to talk to you about your fighting skills."

"I'm not teaming up with them," I say bluntly. Maggie's eyes grow wide,

"What? Why?"

"I don't trust them," he says. "Neither should you."

"I never agreed to be your ally," says Zeit, still holding Ren.

"Then I'll go into the arena alone," I say immediately after. "I'd rather not die with a knife to my throat in my sleep."

Ren's eyes widen again and she drops her biscuit. Zeit pats her on the arm comfortingly and leans over his food in thought.

"You sound like your father you know," he says. "In those reruns he never stopped trying to convince your mother to leave the career pack."

"And look what happened when she didn't," I say, more towards Maggie than him. "Just, if they don't team with us, Mags, then team with me and we'll get through it together."

"Until the end," Ren says quietly, an innocent gleam in her eye. I narrow my eyes at District 3.

"How old are you guys?" I ask.

"Eighteen," says Zeit and Ren follows with, "Just turned seventeen."

"Oh wow," says Maggie. "I can't imagine being picked on your last year, Zeit."

"Yea, well being picked on your first year isn't so great either," I retort, raising an eyebrow at her. Zeit gives me a look and says, "You act much older than you look, Hake."

"I can fight better than any twelve-year-old too," I add, hoping that might persuade them more.

"I like you," says Ren. "I think it would be a good idea to ally with you guys."

* * *

**Ariel's POV**

Finnick seems to be getting angrier and angrier by the day.

"Why are they not with the career pack?" he yells at the surveillance footage. "They're teaming up with the bolt-brains? They might as well hang themselves now!"

"For heaven's sake, Finnick, don't get your trousers in a knot," I protest. "Mako didn't join the careers and look what happened."

Finnick turned to me with a smirk,

"Yes, Ariel," he says. "_Look_what happened!"

"He would have won if not for me," I say. "I nearly died in the career pack."

"But at least you had food and weaponry. Really, you had everything."

"I didn't have him," I say. "I'll never have him again."

Finnick groans and runs his fingers through his hair, continuing to pace the floor.

"They're going to die out there in whatever environment they're tossed into if they do not get their mindset into the kill."

"I didn't kill."

"Yes you did." I wince, remembering when I harpooned the girl from eleven.

"It was an accident," I say. "And it has nothing to do with now."

Finnick glances back at the television as Hake and Maggie seal their alliance with the boy and girl from District 3. He groans again and sighs,

"They're going to die."

* * *

**A/N: ** Hehe Happy Thanksgiving guys! School's got me just everywhere all at once, but I'm glad I finally got the time to write another chapter. I promise the arena will be coming soon! Sorry I'm updating so slowly.


	7. His favorite weapon

**Hake's POV**

Amber stood up and flipped her fire tipped hair behind her shoulder and shot all of us a mischievous look.

"Let's see if I can top Zeus," she says, reaching for the zipper of her shirt and lowering it just above her chest. I can feel hot blush rush to my cheeks as I realize Amber's intention to _seduce_ the Gamemakers into paying attention to her. It's not like they'll have any trouble. They haven't drunk much yet. Really it's the last few Districts that have to worry about the Gamemakers staying sober long enough for them to show whatever talent they may possibly posses.

"Oh wow, Amber," says Rex, kicking his feet up onto another chair. "You think you're going to have trouble getting their attention?"

"Yea really, zip up," says Saskia, the girl from 2. "One sneeze and the surprise is out."

Amber puffs out her red lips and walks out to her private session.

"What do you think she'll even do?" asks Maggie, huddled closely to me while Rex glances at us menacingly; she suddenly lowers her voice. "And do you really think it was a good idea to _not_ ally with the careers?"

Rex scratches his scarred cheek for a moment and then turns away, settling into his chair. I'm starting to think maybe it _was _a bad idea, but then I look up to see Ren smiling brightly at me, despite how anxious Zeit looks next to her, rightly clutching her hand. They must be close friends.

Soon, Rex is called in, and then Saskia, who walks out on her hands...must be part of her act. Ren tugs on Zeit's arm in response and points at her just as the doors close. Zeit pats down her hand and shushes her. The more and more I observe District 3, the more I feel further and further away from Maggie. I feel like I should be protecting her, like my father protected my mother. Maggie doesn't know a thing about fighting.

Why couldn't someone have volunteered for her? For me? Why, in one of the career districts, did no one step up to take a shot at eternal glory, fame and riches.

"Good luck, Zeit!" says Ren as her fellow tribute slowly stands, combs his fingers through his unruly red hair, only to have it puff back out, and walks out to his private session. After the doors close, Ren scoots her chair over to us and rests her chin in her hands, leaning on her knees.

"I wonder what he's going to do," she says, looking at the door askance. "I can only imagine it has something to do with thai-chi."

Maggie looks at me. She had mentioned that strange word in training. I had meant to ask someone about it. Before I get a chance to re-mention it to Ren, they've called her in and she's gone in a flash, like a pixie leaping through the doorway.

"She's an interesting girl, isn't she?" says Maggie, taking a hold of my hand. "I wonder what she'll do."

I shrug. Ren's session goes by agonizingly slow, even though everyone of us gets the same amount of time. Finally, it's my turn and I give Maggie's hand a little squeeze before shuffling in. I've always been small, but now, in front of all the Gamemakers, I feel like an ant among tracker-jackers, all pointing their stingers at me, waiting for me to slip up. They know who I am. They know who my mother is. They'll be looking for anything to judge me on, so I'll just have to give it my all. And more.

* * *

**Finnick's POV**

I down my second scotch and watch the television as Hake goes in for his private session. Ariel sits at the edge of her seat, wringing her hands over and over. I sigh and place a firm hand on her shoulder.

"He'll do fine," I say, ruffling her hair as if she were still the naive adolescent I mentored thirteen years ago. "You've trained him since he could walk. He's lived by the sword, spear, trident, whatever you had placed in his hands. I doubt he's ready to die by those weapons just yet."

Ariel grabs my hand and holds it to her shoulder, giving it a squeeze,

"Thank you, Finnick," she says. "For everything..." She and I watch as Hake heads for the weapons and, as if predicted, grabs a spear, the closest thing to a trident in the Training Center.

"Good choice," I say, raising my shot glass towards the television screen. Hake, as small and frail as he appears, hurls the spear at a deadly spead straight into the center chest of the dummy yards away. The camera catches the reactions of the Gamemakers. All of them have suddenly woken up and are at the edge of their seats, lots of them murmuring in utter shock and disbelief. I can see the small curve of a smile on Hake's lips as he goes for another spear after spear and nails the target every time.

"Come on, baby, do something different," Ariel verbally wills, leaning forward in her seat. Hake throws his final spear, and then works his way towards a weapon that I've rarely ever seen used in the Games, much less the training sessions. Two identical blades called twin hooks. Sword-like steel blades with sharp hooks, like a shepherd's staff. At the bases are smaller blades that could more or less act as daggers, and then the blade that curves around the handle that essentially double for edged brass knuckles. In all honesty, I'm surprised no one has made use of such an efficient and multi-purpose weapon. Probably because they have no earthly clue what it is.

"Those are his favorite," says Ariel. "I was hoping they would have them in the Training Center this year."

"Let's hope, they have them in the arena," I reply, only receiving a nod in return from Ariel.

Hake makes use of every part of the twin-hooks, moving around the floor, slicing through dummy's throats, stabbing their chests, thrusting the handles into their eye sockets, and all in what appears to be a fluid motion, more like a dance, so smooth it's as if it's underwater. This is what I've been looking for. I can only hope Maggie's performance is just as good.

* * *

**Ren's POV (this is a little experiment to see how you like it)**

Zeit sits in the middle of the hallway, leaning against the wall, head between his knees, his hands scrunched up in his fiery hair. The elevator door is just closing behind me when he abruptly looks up.

"Ren," he breathes, and steps up to hug me. "How did you do?" he says into my hair. I hug hum back,

"I did alright...I think... how about you?" A light chuckle escapes Zeit's throat,

"I took down fifteen Avoxes."

I can't help but laugh and give him one last squeeze before pulling away.

"I'm sure you'll get a great score," I say with a smile, even though my stomach is in knots. I really have no idea how what I did could be of any worth. Apart from painting myself into the desert sand backdrop, which in retrospect would never happen because there wouldn't be any materials in the desert to replicate my camouflage. And all my cartwheels and backflips. Yea I took down a few Avoxes with the little Thai-Chi I learned from Zeit, but it's nothing compared to what he must have done.

"Getting a good score isn't what I'm worried about," says Zeit as we make our way into the dining room. "It's those kids from 4."

"They're so young," I say, plopping down on the couch next to him. "I mean, they're both so small. Well, Hake is. Maggie's a little well..."

"Yea I know."

There's a long moment of silence before I lean against Zeit, using him as a human pillow in my exhaustion.

"I think we should make them our allies," I finally say. I can feel him tense beneath me,

"They were still originally careers."

"Not really."

"Hmm?" I sit up,

"Neither of them volunteered. For some reason, no one did this year."

"Because they know what would happen if they got in the way of the perfect opportunity for the Capitol to get revenge on Ariel's attempt at Snow's life."

I remember that. Hake's mother, Ariel Poseidon diving at Agatha Snow, trying to claw her eyes out after being forced to watch her partner, and lover die by killing himself for her. I shiver thinking about watching that ironically popular rerun. Looking up at Zeit's face, which has barely changed from perpetual uneasiness, and wonder- will we be forced into that kind of stalemate? Forced to kill ourselves for the other?

I think I would do it, if it meant Zeit could go home to his family and friends. I just don't dying to hurt. I look up again and see him looking back down at me and I can tell he would do the same thing for me in a split second.

* * *

**A/N: **Ok so, I actually put some more effort into this chapter because my writer's drought finally ended. I really wanted to explore more of the characters so I tried a different point of view to see how you guys liked it. Do you want to see Ren's POV or even Zeit's? Or should I stick with District 4?


	8. Do I rejoice?

**Ariel's POV**

Hake sits anxiously next to me, waiting for the scores to be announced from his private session. I hold his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sure you'll get a great score," said Finnick, also sensing my son's distress. "You were a marvel with those twin-hooks. No one ever uses that weapon so you're sure to get points on creativity alone."

Maggie's face falls more and more each minute in anticipation. It was almost painful to watch her private session, weaving dozens of nets and traps, which thankfully, she has retained a good skill from District 4. She also showed a decent performance with a large hammer. Her father must have taught her, seeing as though he works in the shipbuilding yards.

"They're announcing it!" says Finnick, suddenly glued to the screen. I squeeze Hake's hand harder. They start from the District 1 and make their way up. Zeus's face, stoic and cool shows up next to Amber who is trying to play the sexy card so much she even winked for her official picture. She's pretty confident.

And she should be; she and Zeus both got 9 on their private sessions.

"Shocker," Finnick says flatly. Rex and Saskia come up with a 10 and 11.

"My goodness," says (insert escort's name). "Normally the boys do better. I wonder what 2's little contortionist showed the Gamemakers."

"Conto-what?" says Maggie, twisting back to look at (Name).

"It means she can bend her body just about any way she wants," says Finnick. "Very flexible."

"Oh." Maggie looks back at the screen. "She did walk out to her session on her hands."

"Overachiever," says (name). "She can't really go for sex appeal can she?"

It's true. Saskia is extremely skinny, barely any curves on her, with the exception of arm and leg muscle.

Zeit and Ren fade in to display their scores. Zeit clocks in with an 8 with Ren following behind with a 6.

"Huh," I say, loosening my grip on Hake's hand just a bit. "District 3 has some interesting characters this year, don't they Finnick?" Finnick scoffs, as if amused,

"They're no Nuts and Volts," he says. "But who knows? They may turn out to be better allies than I thought."

I can feel Hake tense up next to me. This obviously didn't go over well with Finnick at first. He wanted Hake and Maggie to be careers from the start; I had been against it since the beginning and I'm more than less satisfied with Hake's decision.

The moment we've all waited for arrives, and Hake and Maggie fade in on the television screen.

Hake, District 4, 11

Maggie, District 4, 4

Dead silence. I'm not sure whether to celebrate over Hake's outstanding score, or comfort Maggie on her awful one. I completely know what she may be feeling right now too, seeing as I received the lowest score of careers since careers were ever established. I silently squeeze Hake's hand and smile down at him. He seems confused as well, but then pastes on a smile and looks at Maggie.

"Hey, Mags," he says. "Think about it this way. Since we're going to be allies, if I get sponsors, you'll get a share in what I get!"

Maggie nods silently, face solid as a rock, but there are tears welling up in her eyes and her lower lip starts to quiver dangerously.

"Come on, Maggie," says Finnick. "The private sessions aren't everything."

"But they're a lot," Maggie says, her voice breaking, and the tears start coming down her plump cheeks. Hake rises and makes his way over to comfort her. Finnick takes the liberty to turn the volume down on the television. We don't particularly care about the rest of the scores, but I watch just in case there are any outstanding scores we might need to take note of. There is only one: The boy from 7, a tall muscular boy who reminds me so much of Johanna Mason, the oldest living female victor from that district. Tan skin, spiked up black hair, fierce brown eyes. He got an 8; I can only imagine what from.

"All we have to do next is get you guys ready for the interview," says (name). "I hope you brought your personalities along!"

* * *

**Zeit's POV**

"Zeit! This is wonderful!" Ren cries, enveloping me in a tight hug, way too cheerful for the given circumstances. "You got a great score!"

"That is pretty impressive," says Wiress, leaning on her walking cane. "No one in District 3 has gotten a score like that..." She trails off as she always does. I heard back when Beetee was still alive, he would always finish her sentences for her, back when they were Nuts and Volts. But I recall Beetee passing away just last year of old age. Now, a young victor, Geere sits in on his second year of mentoring. He's only seventeen, which is odd given he's supposed to be my superior and he doesn't even come up to my height.

"I think she's trying to say," he tries to finish for Wiress, "That no one from 3 has gotten a score like that in a long time." He smiles faintly. "Not much technology to work with in a room filled with weapons and plants, right?"

I nod.

"What _did_ you do, Zeit?" Wiress asks.

"I wrestled," I answer. "Well, kind of."

"Thai-Chi," Ren answers for me. "He was able to defend himself from every Avox that tried to take him down."

"Hmm," Wiress hums, age causing her voice to falter. Curly locks of grey and black hair fall over her eyes and she is once again lost to her own little world. I wonder if the Games did that to her, or if she's always been like that.

"So you allied with 4?" asks Geere, raising a thin eyebrow. Ren nods,

"Yep!" she answers. "That's probably a good thing now... at least, for Hake."

"Maggie's score was terrible," Geere comments. "What on earth did she do during her session?"

I shrug, as does Ren, and we retire to my room to settle down from today's hassles.

"Can't wait for tomorrow, huh?" says Ren, flopping onto my bed as I remain standing.

"My insides are flipping with excitement," I say, completely deadpan. Ren looks up and smirks.

"At least you have some charm to work with," she says. "You know how much I hate the thought of being ladylike." She sits up and counts on her fingers as she continues. "Crossing your ankles, just so, no elbows on the table, allow the man to escort you, no pants, close your knees, no belching..."

"You poor poor delicate flower," I tease her. "How will you ever survive?"

Ren sticks her tongue out at me.

"You can't do that either," I say with a smirk, sitting next to her on the bed. She gives my arm a punch. "Or that...not yet."

Ren's fist stops midair and she lets it drop into her lap. Her smile fades and her eyebrows furrow together in frustration,

"I don't think I can do this Zeit," she says. "I can't kill. I couldn't even hold my own at school. How am I supposed to take a life?"

I sigh and place my arm around her, pulling her close,

"You know, there have been Games where the victors haven't killed anyone."

"Yea, they just hid and waited for everyone else to die," Ren replies. "I'm good at hiding, and I'm good with computers and wiring. That's it Zeit. That's it." She sighs. "You can actually fight, as skinny and fragile you seem, you can fight."

"Not in the way people would assume," I add. "I can just throw people's balance off."

"But your dad worked with combat simulators for the Capitol's video games, right?"

"Right."

"And you got to learn that too, right?"

"Right."

"You know all the right strategies and maneuvers. Your mother even studied the Games herself! They're prepared! They're geniuses."

"That doesn't matter if I don't know what I'm doing. This isn't a game...per say."

Ren gives up her argument and flops back onto the bed once more.

"I guess, but you're more likely to win than me."

I wince, dreading the thought of anything past the bloodbath, and then I hate the thought of the bloodbath. But denial will get me nowhere.

"Remember our plan, ok?" I say, leaning back on my elbows. "If it comes down to us, we just go in the opposite direction."

Ren nods and then covers her face with a pillow.

"I want to go home," she says. I pull her in a comforting hug and kiss her forehead,

"I know, Ren. And maybe you'll get there."

She doesn't answer.

* * *

**A/N: **So there ya go. We'll have the interviews and then we'll have the Games!


	9. One night left

**Hake's POV**

"I can't work with this!" Pearl groans, standing up and storming out, leaving me to tug at my cufflinks and shuffle in the tight brown shoes the stylists put me in to practice for my interview. Finnick stands in the corner, shaking his head,

"Just like your father," he says. From this distance, I can't tell if he's smirking or not, but I know I must be a mess right now.

"What am I doing wrong?" I ask, shifting in my stance. Finnick opens his mouth to say something, but then groans and approaches me.

"You're too shy," he says. "For someone with such a ferocious score on the private session, you can't speak your mind. You're just like Mako, only Mako just didn't _want_ to talk. You can't..."

I look down, ashamed. I know the interview is a big part of the odds that I'll get sponsors. There is so much I need to learn if I'm going to impress Augustus Flickerman and the rest of Panem. I can't help but think if Maggie has any sort of strategy.

"Is Mags doing anything special?" I ask Finnick. He shrugs,

"Ariel is working with her right now. I think they're trying a dainty approach."

This surprises me. Maggie has never been the delicate type so I can't help but wonder how my mother is going to pull that off. Finnick starts to pace the floor and Pearl comes back in, still disgruntled, but calmer than before. As she sits down, Finnick snaps his fingers and whirls around to face me,

"I've got it!" he says. "Just be the mirror image of your father!" I can't help but give him a look,

"You just said I was already like that."

"No, I mean the mindset. Just keep mentioning your mother and your family. Your small, and although you got an amazing score on the private session, the crowd will see you as vulnerable and innocent. Pure." He smirks. "You can even mention your mother's fear of this day. Take a stab at the Capitol."

On one hand, I can see this working out really well, but it seems that whenever anyone tries to insult or question the Capitol's authority, something eventually happens to them, one way or another. That's how _I _got here after all.

* * *

**Maggie's POV**

I pull and fidget at my glossy sea foam colored dress that hangs lightly at my ankles. The stylists have strapped something small and tight around my stomach to push in my fat. They called it a "corset". It's really tight and uncomfortable and really difficult to breathe in, but thankfully the stylists provided me with a dainty fan as a prop to use to add to my "delicate" facade, but all I do is fan air into my face as if there is no tomorrow. We all wait for our interviews to start as Augustus Flickerman opens up the show with some of his jokes to get the crowd roaring and then calls Amber to the stage and blush immediately rushes to my face.

She's practically naked! I mean, she's wearing a dress, but my goodness! The neckline plummets to her navel and the sides of her legs are exposed through slits as the shimmering gold skirt of the dress simply falls over her butt and between her legs.

And I'm not sure now she's walking in the heels of hers. You could probably kill someone with those things. Why is it that all the District 1 girls try to play sexy?

"You look absolutely ravishing tonight, Amber," says Augustus, practically drooling over her, as is the entire crowd. She's also covered in some sort of whitish glitter that makes her shimmer like ice with every subtle move she makes.

The interview goes on with Zeus playing the handsome sex-god he is. Then Saskia comes up and isn't even wearing a dress but a femininely cut white tuxedo with high heels as well. Her cufflinks appear to be diamond grenades, but I only get a quick look at them as she passes by. She plays this almost jester like character, overly happy and eager to kill. She even is so bold enough as to walk around on her hands when Augustus asks her, which is easy for her to do in her tux.

Rex barely says a thing and is utterly terrifying, I think they tried to make his scar more noticeable. He honestly doesn't even look older than early twenties so he has to be at the most eighteen, but it's scary how muscular and over all large he is.

Then Ren is called up. Tiny, 17-year-old Ren who acts younger than Hake skips up onto the stage in a dainty silver dress that seems to have wires running through the fabric that generate bursts of light that run up and down the seams like a circuit board. Her hair is chopped short and flipped out to the side in a pixie-like cut, or at least that's how the stylists described her hair. There are also little silver ribbons no thicker than fishing line that adorns her hair making it shine and shimmer in the light as well.

"You're so adorable, Ren!" says Augustus. "So tell me how you're planning on winning this year's Hunger Games?"

Ren places a silver finger nail on her chin and thinks for a moment, and then she smiles and answers,

"Well, I may not be very strong, but I'm smart and hard to find once I'm hidden."

"Stealth is always a wonderful approach!" says Augustus. "I'll be anxious to see how you fair!"

Zeit causes a riot with Augustus. He has a great sense of humor and keeps coming up with these wonderful one-liners that even has Flickerman doubling over with laughter. He's certainly a crowd favorite.

And then it's my turn. I try to "glide" onto the stage as Aunt Ariel instructed me to. I'm wearing tiny blue flats so it's not hard to remained balanced, and the corset keeps my posture from slouching which I have a problem with. Augustus takes my hand and has me twirl around, the folds of my dress rippling like the waves of the foamy sea.

"So tell me Maggie," says Augustus, leaning on his elbows. "What is it like knowing you'll be in these Games with your very own cousin?"

I fan myself lightly and appear to hide my face from the crowd.

"It's a shock certainly," I say, taking a deep breath. "I never really expected to be placed into the Games from a District that has such an enthusiastic volunteering rate. It was quite fishy this year."

The crowd laughs at me and it takes a minute to realize I've completely made a District 4 pun. Oh dear...

"You're a jewel, Maggie. And so pretty too."

My interview is relatively uneventful, other than Augustus commenting on my dress and the "unexplainable phenomenon" that led to my reaping with Hake. But soon, my time is up and it is Hake's turn to take the stage. He calmly comes up with his blue tuxedo and greets Augustus quietly.

"So Hake," Flickerman asks. "What does it feel like to be following in your mother's footsteps in the Games?"

I watch Hake's movements, he shuffles his feet shyly and looks up at the crowd with a hint of blush on his cheeks. They must be going for innocent with him.

"I-I don't really know," he says. "I suppose it would be an honor coming form my District, but- having to participate in the very events that led to my father's death..." He can't finish. He looks down and there is a murmur through the crowd. Augustus places a comforting hand on Hake's shoulder.

"We understand." Augustus smiles. "But you remind us so much of your father. Does everyone remember Mako Hydra?" The crowd responds with applause. "Who can forget your love-sick father, and certainly no one would forget your mother, the Victor of the fourth Quarter Quell. An honor no?" Hake nods,

"I suppose I have something to live up to," he says with a light chuckles. The crowd seems to melt in Hake's childish innocence. "I just hope I can live up to my father's skills."

"I'm sure you will my boy," says Augustus. The timer goes off and Hake leaves the stage, making way for the girl from five. He sits down next to me and I catch his eye. He and I stare at each other for a while and then, like we did on the train ride, clasp hands tightly as we wait for the interviews to end, signifying our last true day together, our last day where we will just be family.

For tomorrow we will be competitors.

* * *

**N/A:** FINALLY, we're ALMOST to the arena! ...is anyone even reading this anymore? :-P


	10. Labyrinth

**Hake's POV**

It's an early morning for me, for Maggie. For everyone really. My mother comes into my room early before Pearl can come in to sweep me away to my hovercraft. She kneels at my bedside and rubs my back for a while in silence. It feels like we're back in District 4. It's a Sunday and mother always comes into wake me up to walk around the ship yards. Sometimes she even lets me climb onto a few of the smaller boats. After that, we get breakfast in town, say hello to Aunt Ray who keeps her clothing shop even on Sunday. It seems like there is always work to be done on a ripped shirt or a pair of shoes soiled by fish entrails. Maggie would usually be out with her friends or spending the day with her father.

But she's not with her father. She's not with my uncle. She's just a few doors down, probably sleeping. Actually, she probably didn't get _any_ sleep last night. I certainly didn't. I just lay there for a while while my mother strokes my hair. Her mind seems to be between me and some subconscious thought far off in the distance.

"Mom," I say, hugging my pillow sleepily. "What are you thinking?"

The moment I speak, tears spring to her eyes and she hides her face to hold them back, to keep the deluge from a certain complete breakdown. Her one and only son, her one true physical memory of my father is about to be sent into who-knows-what kind of an arena.

I reach up and catch my mother's hand as it rests on my head and she squeezes it.

"I'll come back, mom," I say. She just lays her head on the bed and hides her soft sobs in the sheets. This time, I place my considerably tinier hand on her head and stroke her hair, now cut much shorter than the time of her Games. Although made up and taken care of the Capitol's stylists' expensive products and professional hair care techniques, her hair still maintains that salt water-beaten stiffness. It still smells like the shore, under the perfumes and cremes. It smells like home.

"Mom?" I repeat.

"Hake," she finally says, raising her head. "You have to promise me something."

I take her hand in both of mine,

"Yes?" Mother takes a deep breath and locks me in her green-hazel gaze.

"Don't be a hero," she says, her voice dropping to a very serious tone. "Take care of Maggie, yes. And don't get on your allies' bad side. But if they're dying, they're dying." Her body goes rigid from the conflicting thoughts in her mind. "Only one of you can come back, so please, play your strategies wisely and don't trust anyone." She takes a deep breath. "Even your closest allies can become just another one of the Capitol's muttations without warning."

I nod at her dark request and sit up in bed. Even kneeling, she sits only slightly above my tiny frame. I really am small. Strong yes, but so very small. I look down at my skinny knees and suddenly start to shake. Mother seems to realize what is on my mind.

"Remember the story I told you about the nine-year-old in my Games?" she ask; I nod. "What did I tell you?"

"That he was no bigger than me and he made it to the final eight."

"That's right. Imagine the interviews back in District 5. He probably made history there just for how far he got. And that's without extensive training."

I nod and give a light smile, my spirits lifting.

"You _will_ come back, Hake."

* * *

**Zeit's POV**

Our stylists swiftly usher us out to the hovercraft that will take us to the giant battlefield and, for most of us, the execution grounds. Ren tightly holds my hand the whole time as we fly past hundreds and hundreds of trees, and then over a large body of water. But as we get closer to where the arena will be, the windows black out and we are left to be bathed in the artificial lights of the hovercraft.

"I wonder what it will be," says Ren, shifting constantly in her seat. Even I can't help but bob my knees up and down from nervousness.

"Well last year was volcanoes," I say, trying to eliminate our options. "The year before that were all those toxic hot springs, and then before that was basically a tropical carbon copy of the 50th Hunger Games."

"With all the poisonous patches of quick sand?" Ren asks. I nod.

"They seem to be exhibiting a pattern of really hot environments lately. Hot and humid. Maybe they'll do freezing and dry this year."

Ren nods again, her pixie hair bobbing up and down. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, and leans her head against my shoulder. But before she can take any form of a nap to make up for the lack of sleep either of us got, we've arrived at the arena. Ren is swept away from me to her own loading dock and I follow a pair of Peacekeepers to be prepared for slaughter. My stylist, Galvine helps me into my wardrobe.

The outfit consists of all very pale colored material, very light, all white or off white. The shoes are very thin, but sealed tightly around my slacks. Everything fits loosely but comes to a tight fit around the ankles, waist and neck. The belt has multiple loops and hooks for whatever I may need. The cloak is the finishing touch, with a hood that drapes almost completely over my eyes, buttons around my neck with a flap of cloth that I can tighten around my nose and mouth.

"This is interesting," I say to myself as Galvine buttons the brooch with my District number at my throat. I try to remember a year where the tributes wore something similar. It looks all too familiar with the Games that took place before I was even born but was played a lot of times. It was a very dry environment, filled with rocky terrain and nearly no water.

"Hmm," I hum to myself, moving around to make sure everything fits properly.

"Your hair is surely going to stand out, Zeit," says Galvine, slightly teasing. I smile lightly and shake her hand.

"You've been a very cooperative client," she says, smiling brightly. It's as if she thinks I'm not going out there to die, but just to have a friendly wrestling match with twenty three other people.

"Ren was also a joy to have around," she continues. "It's as if nothing can get her down. She must be excited for the Games!"

I don't respond to her last statement. She finally kisses me on the cheek, hands me the token I brought from home, a necklace that holds half of an ancient symbol from an old religion. It's shaped as if in were formed into a teardrop and then curved around its other half. The black background with a single white circle around the bottom.

"Farewell, Zeit," Galvine says cheerfully and leaves me in the room. There's a table of food laid out for me. Never having been a heavy eater, I drink all the water I can and munch on some fruit and vegetable sticks. I hope Ren has the right idea to tank up on fluids as well.

A Peacekeeper comes in to usher me to the platform and I stand firm. The soles shoes are so flexible I can feel the texture beneath me. The metal vibrates, the plastic tube closes in around me, and I am slowly lifted into what I can already tell is a bright arena. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the contrast with the light and shadow cast against the wall next to me.

Wait, a wall?

I flip the hood over my eyes again to get a better look and I realize the sickening truth. Yes there is sand all around me, but there are walls upon walls leading into multiple halls and pathways. I'm in a small rotunda-like gap between all the halls. There are three other tributes with me in a square formation in the rotunda. I don't recognize any of them. I think the girl is from eight. I forget about the two boys.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Let the 113th Hunger Games begin!"

The clock has started. The countdown ticks on. Sixty seconds is all we get. There is an extremely small Cornucopia in the center of us, barely as tall as I am. It's scarcely contains a few weapons and other survival supplies. I avert my gaze from the other tributes' but I watch their movement, their body language. Which hall will they head down?

"Ten...nine...eight..."

Where am I supposed to go? Which is the right way?

"...seven...six...five...four..."

Here goes nothing. No, here goes _everything_.

"...three...two...one..."

The gong rings out and immediately the girl from 8 dashes to the Cornucopia. The first boy runs away without even grabbing a single item. I make a wide berth around her and the second boy who immediately goes at the girl. She's small, can't be more than thirteen or fourteen, and he's clearly got the advantage. As soon as her tiny hands grip on a baton and a tiny backpack, the boy has his hands around her neck, pinning her into the sand. I take advantage of this opportunity and grab the items furthest away from them. A blow gun with two dozen tiny bolts, a knife, a small backpack, and before I leave I make sure to grab a canteen that comfortingly sloshes with water. I dash out of the rotunda as the girl's gags and chokes grow fainter and fainter.

Left. Right. Another right. The maze drags on. And then I see it. Another rotunda, filled with four tributes this time, now five. At first I don't see him, but then Hake jumps back out from behind the other side of the golden horn with a sword and a strange looking bag with a tube trailing down like a tail. After him stumbles the first tribute I saw, the large boy from seven, towering over the twelve-year-old by a good foot and a half. He wields a large club, swinging it with clearly little skill. Hake side steps calmly and then dashes forward, slicing the sword in a deep gash across the boy's torso. His bright clothes immediately stain with blood, pouring onto the sand.

"Hake!" I cry, finally sure I won't distract him from a deadly blow. He looks my way and the screams, "Behind you!"

I whirl around and my knife sticks into the stomach of the boy I had started out with just minutes before. Simultaneously, he clubs me in the side of the head with the baton, causing me to tumble to the ground with him. My vision goes dark for a brief moment, but then I regain my feet. He doesn't, groping at his stomach to staunch the blood flow.

"Where are the girls?" I ask, joining Hake who is already starting down another pathway.

"I haven't seen them," he answers. "Maybe they've found each other too."

But all the screams and sounds of battle that echo around the labyrinth walls do not put my worry to ease.

* * *

**Maggie's POV**

I'm in a rounded off area with three other tributes: Ren, Saskia, and the boy from 5. Saskia is already armed up with a target locked. Ren and I try to keep one eye on the supplies while watching in horror as Saskia twists her way around the boy from 5's body, somehow slamming him down onto his stomach, knees into his back, and plunges her dagger into the back of his neck.

"Go!" I say harshly as Ren sort of freezes with shock. She finishes shouldering the backpack and I pick up another one when Saskia has chosen her next target. Me.

I scramble for a sword and pull one that is half-buried in the sand. Saskia lunges at me as I turn around, dagger raised high in the air. There's a blur, and then the next thing I know, Ren is on top of Saskia, trying to wrestle the knife from her hand.

"Maggie help!" she cries as the fight with the blade causes a laceration down her arm. I grip the sword and plunge into the fray. Saskia sees me coming, kicks Ren off her, the bloody dagger in her hand.

"Maggie run!" cries Ren, but I have no time to react before Saskia tackles me to the ground and plunges the knife into my chest.

* * *

**A/N:** WHEW! We're finally into the Games! So what do you think of the arena? Creative? You haven't seen everything yet. Thanks for sticking with me.


	11. Not for me

**Hake's POV**

The labyrinth seems to go on and on. My feet seem to sink into the sand more and more with each frantic step. Zeit and I make our way through the maze, once jumping over a mangled body. We come into the rotunda where Zeit started out, a tiny girl dead in the sand. We collect a canteen and what looks like a first aid kit and run down another hall across the way. Where is Maggie?

I glance up at Zeit.

Where is Ren?

"We have to find the girls," says Zeit through heavy breaths. We make our way through the twists and turns. There are even small pipe-like passages that one could crawl through.

"But we can't split up though," I add. "The girls might still be separated."

"Let's hope not.".

We make it into another rotunda, three bodies lay, bloodied and massacred. I can only guess there must have been a career in here. I redraw my sword and prepare for anything.

"Maggie!" I cry, hoping somewhere she'll find her way. "_Maggie_!"

"Ren?" Zeit cries in the other direction. After a few minutes of nothing, we decide to take another hall, still crying out to the girls. Zeit seems unnervingly calm and composed, leading a few steps ahead of me in long strides. We hit another dead end and have to turn around. It's oddly quiet with every footstep muffled by the sand. Turn after turn, and we end up back at the rotunda with a fresh body bleeding out. We kept for different routes, different halls to find the girls.

After running for what feels like an eternity, not seeing a living soul, there appears a bright light at the end of a hall and what looks like more sand. We make a beeline for the end and the hall and then stumble out in to the blazing heat and mountain of sand. I fall to my knees in the loose earth and my hands sink up to my wrists.

"Wha-" I breathe, fishing around for my sword. I sift it out from the grains and shake it clean. Zeit pulls the hood over his head and shields his eyes from the...am I hallucinating? No, I'm not; the red sun.

"We've made it out," says Zeit, looking around. We both turn around to see the enormous wall that stretches far to both the left and right, making a slight curve in the end. I can only imagine the maze as a circle. I breathe out another heavy breath and try to regain my composure.

"Is the bloodbath over?" I ask, looking for any more tributes that might have made it out of the labyrinth, or anymore exits for them to escape from. Zeit just shakes his head and grips his knife.

"I don't see anyone, kid. And I don't hear any cannons."

There's a sinking feeling I get when I reexamine the arena. A giant labyrinth leading out into an enormous desert. I don't know much about this part of the world, but I do know one thing.

This is no place for a mere child of District 4.

* * *

**Ren's POV**

I stumble out into the light, escaping the prison maze. My entire front is splattered with blood. I'm not even sure whose it is anymore. An enormous desert spreads out before me, the bright white sand hurting my eyes almost as much as the red hot sun and cloudless sky.

"Oh," I breathe out, falling to my knees. I grip the crossbow I managed to scrounge from one of the small Cornucopias. Everything before that is a blur, stained in crimson corruption.

I grip the side of my head and groan. I can already feel a bruise starting to form above my left temple. My skull throbs and all I want to do is lay down and sleep. It's not half an hour into the Games and I'm already ready to give up. I was never meant to fight.

I'm just the nerdy daughter of microchip designers.

I'm no warrior.

I barely hear the other tribute come up behind me. Their foot scrapes against a stray rock and I whirl around as the girl from 6 lunges for me. I fanatically pull the trigger on the cross bow and the bolt lodges into her eye. She screams, but the cry is short lived because my finger twitches on the trigger again and the second one hits her in the neck. She gargles, a horrid sound and falls face first into the sand. I drop my crossbow and fall back on my knees.

I just killed someone.

I just took someone's life, and I had no idea who they are.

Zeit's words come back into my head, our first day on the train.

_"You have to remember Ren, all warfare is based on deception. If they get the chance, they will stab you in the back. _Always_ watch your back. Always."_

"Always, watch my back," I say. "You said you would be here to watch my back, Zeit."

I might as well be speaking to the dead girl before me. Suddenly, all the cannons for the bloodbath start to go off. I collect my belongings and then collect the two bolts from the girl's body and make my way to the enormous wall that stretches far beyond my eyes can see, counting as I walk.

Ten. Ten cannons for the ten lives gone. I lean my head back against the stone wall and pray that Zeit is not among them.

Whether he is or not, a brief history has already been made. It's been a while since someone from District 3 has made it past the bloodbath. Being cooped up in computer labs behind electrical circuits have turned our bodies small and fragile, or at least most of us.

"I made it," I breathe. I look upward towards the bright sky, wondering where the cameras could even be. There's no one else for miles other than the dead 6 girl. She has a large backpack with her and I move over to take it. The next move is to leave the parameter around the body so the hovercraft can collect it.

It's hot. So incredibly hot. And the sun is only just peaking in the sky, and I am half tempted to retreat back into the sanctity of the labyrinth's shade. I might regain a bit of short term memory from retracing my steps, but for now, I dare not enter the narrow halls of impending death for what remaining tributes lie in wait, desiring my blood.

For now, I find another spot against the wall further away and settle down to search through my supplies. Other than 6's large beige backpack, I only have my crossbow and the belt of bolts. After appraising through the backpack, I find a canteen filled with water, a strange pair of goggles, two loafs of bread, and a spade that can be extended and retracted to fit into the backpack. Why would I need a shovel?

The words of one of the training leaders comes back to mind. She had mentioned that whenever in a sandy or not environment, digging a hole in the day can shield you in from the sun and hide you from tributes a long distance away.

I conclude that I should do that soon so I don't dry up in this heat. However, digging a hole deep and wide enough for me to comfortably fit in takes a long time. The sun is well into the west by the time I climb into the hole, the surface of the sand a good two feet above my head when I sit. I drink about a spoon full of water, just enough to cleanse the dryness of my throat.

Late into the evening, I wait, eat a small hunk of the first loaf of bread. The blaring of the Capitol Anthem makes me jump and drop the loaf into the damp sand. I quickly brush it off and stuff it back into the backpack as the announcer congratulates the remaining 14 for making through the first day. They then proceed to display the images of today's fallen tributes.

The very first image to show causes my stomach to plummet into my knees.

Maggie.

I stand up from my hole and just stare wide eyed. The plump face, brown hair and hazel eyes. The memory of the bloodbath suddenly floods back into my head.

_Saskia had just killed the boy from five, who's face is currently in the sky. She then proceeded to attack Maggie, but I tackled her to the ground before she could touch her. I had managed to wrestle Saskia onto her back, but she kicked me off. I yelled for her to run, even though she tried to save me. This gave Saskia the opportunity to do what she did: Wrestle the knife from my hand and stabbed Maggie in the chest, not once, but over and over. Blood stained the sand and it was all I could do, knowing it was too late to save Maggie, to just grab the item nearest me and run_.

Maggie's sacrifice saved my life.

Now, I almost do not want to face Zeit and Hake, if they have even found each other. It's clear that they both survived the bloodbath, but so have the careers. I barely pay attention to the rest of the deaths and just sink back into my pit for the rest of the night.

* * *

**A/N**: Alright alright, I'm sure some of you are already pissed for me killing off Maggie, but I want to be realistic about this...that and catch you guys off guard. *evil grin*


	12. Once in a Blue Moon

**Zeit's POV**

The temperature has plummeted from its previous sweltering heat, causing the night to draw on excruciatingly slow. I take watch for a while while Hake tries to sleep, curled up against my side, both of us stuffed in the sleeping bag he was lucky enough to have in the backpack from the Cornucopia. My small bag was just a first aid kit. That's it. No food, not weapons. I'm already embarrassed from Hake's impressively advanced survival and combat skills.

I'm being out-Gamed by someone six years my junior...

But right now, Hake's puffy red face seems relaxed. He might have fallen asleep. When we saw Maggie's face appear in the sky, Hake didn't cry out. He barely made a sound. He just fell against the wall and silently wept for his cousin.

I almost envy him though. The worst is over now. He's lost the only one near and dear to him in these Games. He has nothing to worry about now.

"Ugh," I groan, and lean back against the wall, pulling my cloak tighter around me. Now that Maggie is dead, there's no telling where Ren might be, alone without so much as an ally, maybe without supplies.

I watch through the night, not having been one for sleep much anyway. The moon is enormous and blue, literally blue, harshly contrasted from the red hot sun during the day. It's almost as if the moon itself is pulling the heat, the Yin of the sun's Yang. This thought brings me to instinctively cradle my District token in my hands. The black half, the Yang hangs around my neck, its metal mold chilled by the night air.

Before my thoughts drift anywhere else, my eyes catch something in the distance, walking in a diagonal direction away from the labyrinth into the desert, but also drifting closer to us. I try to wake Hake as quietly as possible and put a finger to my lips when he looks at me. I then point towards the tribute and, with the slowest of movements, he fishes his sword from the sand next to him and looks to me for a directive. I just gesture my hand downward in a calming notion.

There's no sense in attacking the tribute now. They're probably still well equipped and energized from the luxuries of the Capitol. In a few days, if they make it that long, they'll be weaker, hungry or, more likely, thirsty. They'll be more vulnerable and easier to take care of if they pose as a threat.

My deduction doesn't go any further than that when I see another shadow make its way across the sand. But it's not just one shadow. It's multiple. The glow from flashlights blink around on the sand as they run as fast as they can through the sand.

The career pack.

Hake stiffens next to me and we watch as the unsuspecting lone tribute is taken down by the careers. The screams that ring through the night indicates that it is a girl.

"We need to move," I whisper, scrambling from the sleeping bag. We try to pack our belongings as quietly and quickly as possible while the girl's screams continue, pleading and begging for mercy.

"Come on," says Hake, taking the lead along the outer wall away from the scene. The screams eventually die and there's a cannon fire, but we've already made it a fair distance away from the career pack.

"Thirteen," Hake breathes, leaning against the wall.

"Hm?"

"There's thirteen of us left." He looks into the distance. "We need to go into the desert."

"What?" I say abruptly. "Did you _see_ what happened to that girl back there? We'll be sitting ducks!"

"We'll see them coming too," he adds. "The further away from the maze, the better. Maybe we'll find an oasis or something."

I nod, but only one unanswered question echoes around in my skull.

What about Ren?

* * *

**Ariel's POV**

The viewing room in our suite feels like a claustrophobic box now. It feels as if the walls are closing in on me.

Maggie...why Maggie?

I sit at the edge of my seat, my fingers locked around the armrests. This is the Quarter Quell all over again. Watching, waiting for something to happen that I know won't. It's just like waiting to watch Mako die, wondering how his life was taken. By his own hand as it turned out, to save me and his unborn son.

Any emotions of grief and sorrow have been drained from me as if all of it was used grieving for Mako, for the first half a dozen tributes I was forced to mentor and watch die, for when Hake was reaped and no one dared to volunteer that year.

"Ariel..."

I roll my gaze towards Finnick, who sits next to Wiress, the old withering victor of 3 herself.

"Are you alright?" he asks. I just shake my head and look back towards the Games. It's late, but I don't want to go to bed. We have the option to watch until midnight, and then the live feed cut off and a recap will be shown in the morning.

Right now, it's focussing on the Career pack's recent kill. The young girl from 7, violently stabbed to death. After watching the Careers talk amongst themselves for a while, it switches to the few tributes that are still hiding in the labyrinth, one sleeping in the Cornucopia, another huddled in a dead end, spattered with blood. Others have scattered. The girl from 3, Ren sleeps sitting in a pit she had dug herself, hidden from the rest of the world. And then before the feed ends, I watch Hake and Zeit make their way across the sandy sea, away from the giant maze, towards the unknown.

* * *

**Ren's POV**

The air has begun to warm up as the sun rises in the morning. I emerge from my pit to face the sting of sand carrying winds. I duck back under and blink all the grains out of eyes, tears spilling over.

"Ow ow ow," I groan. I try not to rub my eyes, but it scratches anyway. Once my vision is clear of sand, I pull the strange goggles from my bag and slip them on. Securing the front of the cloak over my face I once again emerge from the hole and face the morning gale.

I'm not sure where I'm going. There was a cannon late last night off further down the wall. This makes me think that there is more than one exit from the labyrinth. Now, I'm not sure if I'm going south, north or into the trap of the Career pack.

My feet sink deep into the sand. It seems like walking gets harder and harder with each step. Trudging up hills of sand, nearly rolling down them. Waves of grainy grit flow on and on, and even when the sand dies down, I only have one real land marker. An area of rocky terrain ahead of me. I just hope that no one else has made it there yet.

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry this was a kind of a short chapter. The bloodbath makes everything seemingly uneventful until other events like the Feast or final battle.


	13. Play by Play

"Welcome back Panem, to Play-by-Play with your host, Augustus Flickerman and our spokesman, Claudius Templesmith!"

Claudius smiled a wrinkled grin and looked toward his former host's son.

"If I understand, Claudius," said Augustus, starting off the show with a personal note, "this is your fiftieth year as spokesman for the Hunger Games!"

He nodded slowly.

"Indeed it is, Augustus," he replied. "It's been a great ride the whole time." He turned to the camera. "Now let's take a recap at the first twenty-four hours of the 113th Hunger Games!"

The pictures of the fallen faded into the screen behind Augustus and Claudius in order of district. First came Maggie Hydra, plump face, looking uncomfortable in her picture.

"This certainly was an interesting turn of events," said Augustus. "Maggie was in fact the niece of one of our Quarter Quell victors."

"You don't say!" Claudius replied, acting oblivious. They all knew both district 4 tributes were connected.

"Indeed," Augustus continued. "I really didn't think she had a lot going for her though, compared to her cousin after all, the son of Ariel Poseidon."

"I'll have to agree with you," said Claudius. "Although, I will say her death was in fact a unique one. That girl from 3, Ren Circuit was her ally if I remember correctly, right?"

"She was. And Maggie ended up saving the poor girl at the cost of her life at the hand of Saskia Farrier." He looked at his papers for a moment. "She seems to be our most popular female this year."

"Really?" said Claudius. "I was almost sure Amber would be our most...erm...popular." He winked at Augustus.

"She's certainly a jewel from District 1."

"But you know who pleasantly surprised me?"

"Who, Claudius?" He turned to the camera,

"That young man from 3, Zeit Astrape." He pulled up the picture of the red haired young man. "He has astounded me for a District 3 contender."

"I agree, you know, he doesn't look like the run-of-the-mill 3 citizen, but he's certainly a looker. I mean, look at that bone structure."

Claudius nodded in agreement.

"He is a handsome lad. His fellow tribute is in an interesting thing as well."

They continued their banter of Zeit and Ren, how calm and collective he was, how bubbly yet strong she was. They discussed the boy from 7's embarrassing death, being taken down by tiny, twelve-year-old Hake.

"Now, Augustus," said Claudius, turning to his companion. "What do you think of this year's arena?"

"You know what, it's pretty interesting," said Augustus. "We've had deserts, and we've had labyrinths, but never combined the two. I think it's pretty interesting. Although, it's a bit plain. Perhaps the Gamemakers will bring out a surprise later on in the Games."

"Who knows what they'll come up with this year. Some of them have fifty years of this on their belt."

"They'll have to figure out a way to get everyone back together. This is a pretty big arena and everyone appears to be going in opposite directions."

"Oh I'm sure the Gamemakers will come up with something."

* * *

**A/N:** Please don't kill me for this near meaningless filler! I've been really busy! I promise the next chapter will be better!


	14. They're playing with us

**Zeit's POV**

"Keep walking, Hake," I say as we dig our feet into the ever sinking sand. My calves ache with strain when we trek up a sand dune to survey the land. The Cornucopia has to be a good five miles away, or at least that's how it feels. Trying to do the math in my head, I remember it takes about forty minutes to go two miles if you're _not_ walking in this sand, so we've probably been walking for a few hours now.

"Zeit," says Hake. "I'm really tired, and my mouth is so dry. Can we stop for a rest?"

I nod and we plop into the grainy earth, just below the sand dune that provides adequate cover for any wandering tributes. Hake fishes through his large backpack and pulls out a small clear canteen containing a very pale cloudy green liquid.

"That doesn't look like water," I say, peering at the canteen. Hake unscrews the cap and sniffs it. Pursing his lips in confusion he stares up at me for an answer.

"Don't look at me," I say. "I don't know what it is."

"Could it be medicine?" he says, shaking the canteen. Nothing out of the ordinary happens. With a shrug, Hake lightly tips it against his lips and takes a small sip. He frowns as he swallows and sticks out his tongue.

"What does it taste like?" I ask.

"Bitter," he answers, but immediately, his eyes brighten. "Wow!" He looks up at me in amazement. "My stomach! I don't feel hungry anymore... I feel... kind of jittery actually."

He hands the canteen from me and I take a sip, nearly gagging from the bitter taste. It feels weird going down, but once it hits my stomach, the growls and aches disappear, numbed almost.

"That's pretty incredible," I say, swishing the canteen around. "We'd better save this stuff." I think for a moment. "We should probably eat something though, just in case."

Hake pulls out a pound pack of dried fruit and we each ration our first meal with care. The sun has risen high to noon, quicker than I had expected. I wonder if this another one of the Gamemakers' tricks.

"Where do we even go now?" Hake asks, licking his fingers of whatever the remnants fruit may have left behind. "There's nothing but sand for miles." He glances to his left. "And we can't go back can we?"

I shrug, trying to think of a plan. Suddenly, all I can think of is what Ren must be going through right now. There are no other allies for her to join now that Maggie is dead. I glance down at Hake, small, nimble Hake, with the facade of an innocent child. Yet I got a front row seat of him taking down a tribute probably at least five years his senior.

"Ready to keep walking?" I ask, standing up and brushing the sand off my slacks. He rises with my help and we transfer some items from his pack to mine to lessen the weight. We're off once more, walking absolutely nowhere.

* * *

**Ren's POV**

The sandstorm has long since halted, but now the sun beats down on my head with intense cruelty. I'm covered with the remnants of the sandy gale that nearly blinded my path. The towers of rocks lay ahead of me, closer than before. It won't take much longer to get to them. It almost appears as a mountain range that stretches on for miles in either direction, but unlike the labyrinth I escaped, I can see the ends of this wall.

After trudging long and hard, I reach the edge of what I can now see very clear. Shelves upon shelves of rocky terrain that dip down into a canyon and skyrocket upward, sand pits here and there like carpet. I remember my conversation with Zeit about how my true talent, hiding. Perhaps there is a crevice or cave in which I can lay low and weight for everyone to kill each other. I don't dare go downward, so climbing is my next option. The shelves of red rock are rough and easy to scale. Some appear as mere stepping stones while some skyrocket some three stories into the air. I'm sure another tribute will see this and no doubt head for it, but if I get the high ground first, there's no way they could reach me before, Heaven forbid, I can shoot them down.

Eventually, I find a reasonable spot in the middle of a higher rock. As if it were made to be inhabited, in some areas there are holes to crawl in. The one I find is barely high enough to sit up in, but it's wide enough to lay down. I settle back in the shade and remove my goggles and hood.

"Ahhh," I sigh in the cool shelter of the rock. But my security is short lived when a cannon makes me jump and hit my head.

"Ah!" I gasp. My sense of loneliness takes a weird twist in my stomach. I feel alone in this vast arena, no allies to rely on or find comfort in, but there's also no one around to kill me. I try to rub away the goosebumps in my arms, brushing my clothes off and piles of sand onto the shelf floor. My stomach growls so loudly that I shove the rest of the partially eaten loaf of bread in my mouth, as if the noise within me would attract the career pack. I almost immediately realize this was a mistake. My thirst grows and I'm forced to take a mouthful of my precious water.

Precious...precious water...

* * *

**Hake's POV**

My legs ache with cramps and my tongue still feels dry with no water. Even though Zeit has lightened the weight from my large pack, I still feel weighed into the sand with each step.

"There has to be something," I pant. "Somewhere with water...what do they call those things?"

"An oasis?" says Zeit who is just a few steps ahead of us. "I haven't seen any signs of that at all."

I look around. There are what appears to be a hill range of large- rocks, I think to the east.

"Maybe there's water there," I suggest, stopping for a moment to lean on my knees. "That green stuff clearly isn't quenching our thirst, just staunching our hunger."

Zeit nods and halts for a moment, waiting for me to stand up straight. I can already see the skin on his nose, cheeks, and the backs of his hands starting to burn, basically everywhere not covered in this rough bright cloth. I've always been tan from being outside most of my life, whether it be learning to fish or fight. But for good measure I tug the hood further over my head, yanking it free from the sweat that glues it to the back of my neck.

Zeit tugs his hood over as well and looks around, suddenly he focusses on something in the distance. I follow his gaze, trying to see what he sees.

"What is it?" I ask, hope and caution building up. He squints and then starts to take a few steps.

"Is that..." His face brightens. "Ren!"

He drops his pack and breaks into a sprint- as much of a sprint with his feet digging into the sand with each step. He tumbles over many times running towards a distant figure.

"Wait!" I shout as I quickly heft his pack over my shoulders and take off after him, significantly slowed by the burden.

"Ren!" he continues to cry her name. "Ren Ren! Right here Ren!"

The loudest and most enthusiastic I've ever seen him.

"Wait, Zeit, stop!" I plead, trying to keep up with him. He's running towards the figure. It doesn't take much to recognize it as Ren, but something strange happens. Once he reaches her, arms outstretched, he falls right through her, right into the sand. It quickly hits me.

It's a mirage. It's all in our minds. But something isn't right. How can we both see her?

But then I remember this is the Hunger Games. The Gamemakers could probably conjure up whatever they wanted to. The illusion of Ren still stands there, looking around as if in a daze. When I walk up, she's as clear as day, but when I put my hand out, it goes right through her stomach, and she continues to look around, bewildered. Zeit rises to his knees and looks back up at the fabricated image. His face is broken and baffled. He stands up and walks around to face her. It looks just like Ren, same oval face, same hazel-green eyes and short, flipped out reddish hair. But it's weird, she doesn't even look transparent like the holograms in the Capitol. Even when I wave my hand through the image it doesn't burst into static or visual feedback, but it's still a mirage just the same.

"Ren..." Zeit's expression falls from bewilderment to pain, almost anguish as he stares at the mirage that continues to look around. The image of Ren cups her hands to her mouth and I can hear her voice clear as day.

"Zeit!" she yells. "Zeit, where are you!"

This is the most I've ever seen Zeit loose his composure. It's almost as if he can't believe what he's seeing. He runs his hand down the side of Ren's head, his fingers trailing through the flipped out edges of her hair. There's a flicker of static and then she's gone, and we are alone in the desert once more. I rub my eyes and look around.

"You saw her right?" he says, unnervingly calm, face void of emotion once more. I absently nod.

"It wasn't Ren, Zeit," I say. "It wasn't her."

Before I even finish my statement, just a few yards away, I see another figure, clearly another fabrication.

Maggie.

She stands, arms open, calling my name.

"Hake!" she cries. "Hake, come here!"

I start to tremble, knowing it's a mirage, a sick joke the Gamemakers are playing to make me lose my composure like Zeit, and I turn around before I tear up again. But I can still hear her. Her desperate cries ring in my ears and I clamp my hands on either side of my head, sinking to my knees.

"Make it stop!" I plead. I'm vaguely aware of Zeit walking past me, probably to Maggie's image. He returns after a few moments and picks me off the ground.

"Come on," he says, monotonous. "We need to get out of here."

And then today's second cannon goes off.

* * *

**A/N:** See? See? I told you I'd make it up to you. Almost 2000 words worth of a chapter! Haha. So what do you guys think of our tributes' situation so far? Who's cannon's going to go off next? Ren? Zeit? A Career perhaps? Maybe even Hake himself!


	15. I can't stop, not now

**Ariel's POV**

"One career down," says Finnick. "Three to go."

I watch with Finnick, Annie, and the mentors from 3, Wiress and Geere. At the same time Zeit and Hake encountered the illusion of their lost allies, Ren and Maggie, the Gamemakers release something elsewhere on the arena. It's a swarm of giant scorpions that draw the Career pack to the boy from 6. The boy from 1, Zeus dies from the scorpion muttations' venom, but then Saskia, the girl from 2 kills off the boy from 6 faster than he is able to realize into what the scorpions lured him.

"They're dying fairly quickly this year," says Geere. "It was a lot like the arena with all the waterfalls."

"Yea, that was an interesting year." Finnick rotates the ice cubes in his drink around and around. I watch them as the solidified water slides in the glass. Somehow, minuscule things like this remind me of the horrors I endured while in the "Fish Tank" arena that it was nicknamed.

"Ren's lucked out of this one," Annie says quietly, her voice variating from spoken word to whispers. "She might live longer if she would realize the water that's so close she could taste it..." She looks up at Finnick. "Let's hope she doesn't taste the wrong water."

I glance at Finnick confusedly and he shrugs at me. None of us know what the Gamemakers have constructed the arena with; there's no way that Annie could tell what traps or tricks have been planted, yet to be discovered.

"Our little team may reunite yet," says Geere, helping Wiress readjust the pillow behind her for support. "As long as Zeit and Hake keep heading in the right direction."

"We can only hope," says Finnick. "The Careers are a lot more mobile this year. They've been hunting more vigorously."

"A bit too vigorously if you ask me," I add, watching Zeus' face appear as the day winds to an end. Annie stands up and walks up to the television screen.

"Your boy better slow down," she said turning to me, staring through her messy brown curls. "He'll wear himself into the ground."

* * *

**Zeit's POV**

"It's getting late," I say, trailing behind Hake. "They've already announced the dead tributes, we should try to get some sleep."

Hake keeps walking.

"We'll be too vulnerable out here," he says, trekking on. "We have to get to those rocks."

"Do you realize, that's probably where everyone's heading?" I call out. "It'll be another bloodbath before you know it."

"You want to find Ren, don't you?" he says, turning to face me. It's strange how someone so small could be so intimidating. "We need to keep moving. Here, take a sip of the green stuff."

Hake takes a drink from he canteen and then hands it to me.

"It will keep us going through the night," he says. "Just take some and let's keep going."

I slowly accept the canteen, take about a spoonful and hand it back.

"You're going to weaken yourself if you don't sleep."

I can tell he's already losing something in the back of his mind. He's not thinking as clearly as he was at the beginning of the Games. The heat, the mirages, the lack of actual water.

"I'm so thirsty," I say to myself, following a few yards behind Hake. I sink ankle deep with each step. "We won't be there by morning. We haven't slept in twenty four hours. Hake, you need to rest."

He doesn't answer.

"Hake." Still nothing. "Hake?"

He's silent as the grave.

* * *

**Ren's POV**

Fatigue, sheer exhaustion, debility is all I feel right now as I lie alone in my little shelf. I've consumed half of my other loaf of bread and I only have a little water left. I want to stay here, safe in my cave and wait for everyone else to kill each other. I choke back a small sob thinking about Zeit, still alive, possibly alone. My hand instinctively goes to the charm I wear around my neck, a counterpart to the one Zeit is wearing right now, except while his is black, mine is white and dips up as his dips down and around mine.

"Hnm," I groan, hugging my aching stomach. I'm still very hungry and desperate to stay where I am.

The shuffle of feet catch my ear and I jump at the sound. Slowly and quietly I lean out of the safety of my shelf to see if I'm going crazy or not. Sure enough, there's another tribute. I think it's the District 9 boy. He looks to be about fourteen, hefting a sack of apples and a canteen that banks against his leg, hollow, empty. He also holds a torch-like device that glows at the top, but isn't a flashlight. As I watch him make his way down the rock, I notice something else. He's completely spotless, clean. Not a speck of sand on him.

He's found water, and that's probably where he's going now. I stuff my two packs hard against the back of the cave, but then remember to get the knife from the bag that I got from District 6. Then I strap the canteen to my felt and then buckle the strap of bolts around my waist and secure the crossbow around my shoulders by its leather strap.

I try to climb out of my crevice as quietly as I can to follow the boy. He's already gained a good bit of distance on me, but I can still see the light of his lantern glowing against the red rocks. My shoes are thin and hit the ground about as lightly as my bare feet would.

It's a work out, climbing over and around rocks to follow the slowly escaping light. And then I hear it. The light trickle of water like an angel chorus in my ears. It's about five minutes away from my shelf when I hide behind a shelf of rock that overlooks the dip in the earth where the boy from 9 kneels at a pool of water, a small fall flowing from in between the rocks above. He gently lays down the lantern and dips his canteen in the liquid treasure.

Suddenly, Geere's final advice to me come back into my head.

_"You can't be afraid to kill someone. They all have to die eventually for you to win, just remember that._"

The words echo over and over, testing my morals and who I was as a person before I was reaped, trained and thrust into this wasteland. But I'm not me. I'm simply tribute girl #4. I repeat my own words and Geere's in my head as I slowly remove the crossbow from my back and load a bolt. The light of the enormous moon that hasn't waned at all since day one allows me to see the boy very clearly, in addition to his lantern light that softly glows against his pale skin. He bobs his head underwater for a moment, and then whips it up, shaking it from his hair and sitting back. I wait until he's back up to sit against a rock, away from the precious spring, and then I release the bolt.

* * *

**A/N:** Gah! I can't believe I made Ren a killer!


	16. Story time

**Hake's POV**

The cannon catches us both by surprise and I slip on a sandy mound, clutching my chest.

"I'll never get used to those," I say, readjusting the pack on my sore shoulders. Zeit looks up into the sky.

"Just nine more to hear," he said grimly. "I wonder who it was."

I look up at the stars, practically out shined by the enormous blue moon that still hasn't waned. It has just remained a huge full globe in the sky.

I'm sure Zeit's nerves are on edge once more. One more cannon to make him think of Ren.

"Hey Zeit?" I say, drawing his attention from the sky. "Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" He shifts his weight to his other leg and pops his neck. "What is it?"

I go over the question in my head, thinking of the best way to word it.

"What makes Ren so important to you?" I ask. "Did you know here before the Reaping or something?"

Zeit's face contorts with self conflict, as if he is fighting himself to answer.

"Can I plead the fifth?" he says.

"What?" I answer. I've never heard anything like that in my entire life. "What are you talking about?"

Zeit chuckles for a moment,

"Oh right," he says. "You probably never studied our nation's ancient history."

He briefly explains to me some old document called the 5th Amendment which basically meant if you didn't want to say something, you didn't have to- or...something like that.

"So..." I scratch my head. "You don't want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," he answers. "But can we rest for now? It has to be past midnight if they haven't added that last tribute to the sky."

Suddenly, the dark side of my conscience takes over and I stand up, readjust my pack again, and smile mischievously.

"Only if you tell me about Ren," I say. Zeit's jaw drops and his eyebrows arch with near offense.

"Heh," he says, his expression calming. "I forgot you were a Victor's spoiled twelve year old."

For some reason, this doesn't offend me, probably because I just want to hear their story. Zeit sighs and lays down his pack, pulling out the sleeping bag.

"Alright, fine," he says. "As long as I can sleep sometime tonight."

I make my way over to him and sit next to him as he nestles into the bag.

"But you take the first watch," he says, pointing at me almost accusingly. I nod and cross my legs, anticipating the story. Zeit just softly laughs at what I must look like, my own age, for once.

"Where to start really," he says. "Well, we were in the same education sector. Do you guys have those?" I nod. "Yea those. I was a grade above her but we had the same lunch times and apprentice group. We both worked in my father's business of constructing the Capitol's video games." He chuckled. "I don't believe Ren was ever supposed to be born in District 3."

"Why?" I ask.

"She can't work with technology at all," he replies. "She couldn't program a game worth crap, but boy could she draw. She would create this great concept art for me to program into the games. That's really the only way she managed to pass the classes." He looks up at the sky, bending his arms behind his head for a pillow. "She could play the piano really well too. Occasionally my father would use her compositions as stock music for cutscenes of his independent games. But he mostly worked on Hunger Games simulations. They were pretty popular in the Capitol."

"So you guys were friends?" I conclude. "For how long?"

"Yea...friends," he answers quietly. "I've known her for about four years."

I eye him curiously at his choice of wording and tone.

"Are you and her-"

"That's all," he says. "Story time's over." He turns his back to me in his bag. "Now let me get _some _sleep."

I stare at him, realizing how much he really doesn't want to talk about this.

"Thanks for that," I say quietly, but he's already out. I lean back on my arms, look up at the sky, and find myself wishing I could see Ren's art. I someone as upbeat and happy as her, she must create some pretty amazing things.

* * *

**Ren's POV**

The aftermath of my sin is surprisingly anticlimactic. The boy from 9 doesn't have much to react to the bolt lodged in his heart before he dies. The cannon fires and I am free to head down to the spring. It's not satisfying until I take the first gulps of water. It's cold, very cold. I wash my face from the grimy sand of the desert and then fill the boy's canteen, commandeering it for myself. I also take his bag of apples and then pull the bolt from his sunken chest, cleaning it on his clothing. He didn't even have any weapons. But I turn off his lantern and take that as well.

"Time to go," I say to myself. I really don't want to abandon the spring, but I know where to go now. For good measure, I mark certain rocks with the steel tip of a bolt. The rock is easily carved into, but I try to make them as natural looking as any hieroglyphic would.

It's not easy.

I reach my shelf once more, drink some more water, and eat an apple. It's sweet and juicy, and so much better than the staling bread I've had for the past few days. I think of the boy from 9 and suddenly the bite of apple turns to glue in my mouth. This was his food. This was his way of surviving. He didn't have a fancy crossbow or even a knife to defend himself.

I throw the apple core, or whatever's left of it behind me and pull out a bolt from my belt. I'm suddenly not tired, but for the first time in what feels like an eternity, I'm inspired to draw. I take the bolt and start lightly carving line art into the floor. It's starting out as a face. It's almost immediately clear who's face it will be from his bone structure. I always loved his jawline.

Expectedly, my drawing eventually tires me, as it always has late at night. Zeit's face sinks into the rock beneath me and gives me something to look at before I close my eyes to sleep.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry it's another short episode. I'm trying to think of some more twists for the arena :-P


	17. So lonely

**Zeit's POV**

The parachute comes in the early morning when I'm taking my shift watching. Hake sleeps enveloped in the large nap sack so I don't wake him when it comes. I open the container and sigh with relief. A half gallon container of water. Water water water!

I should probably wake Hake up now.

"Hake," I say, shaking him lightly. "Wake up. I have a surprise."

The twelve-year-old lazily opens his eyes and blinks the sleep from them. He rubs his eyelids and stares up at me.

"Hmm?" he says, half yawning. "What is it?"

"Look what we got," I say with a smile, holding up the water. Hake's eyes widen and he's completely awake now.

"Water?"

"Water."

He stares at the jug as if he's not sure whether to stare at it or drink it.

"Here." I unscrew the cap and hand the jug to him. "Take the first drink."

Hake stares at me for a moment, then slowly takes the jug.

"You sure?" I just nod.

"Go for it."

He tilts the jug up and takes the first drink of water we've both had in a good three days. I can already see his eyes lighting up.

"Ahhhhh," he sighs, leaning his head back. "That's the stuff."

He hands it to me and I take it graciously. The cool crystal liquid is like being kissed by an angel. It douses the fire in my throat and clears the sand from under my tongue.

"Oh god," I breathe. "That's the stuff indeed!"

He and I exchange a look and then burst into laughter as we take turns drinking the water. We know we have to make it last, but we've been without it for days which could have killed us the next day. We drain half of it and decide to head for the rocky range in the distance to look for a spring or oasis.

As we pack everything up, Hake points out something I must have missed. The note inside the sponsor's container. I stoop down to pick up the small slip of paper and read it.

_Nice story. Finish it sometime_.

_W & G_

I blink a few times at the note and then shake my head with a chuckle.

"What is it?" says Hake. "What did they say?"

"They said 'You're welcome,'" I lie. "Come on, let's get going."

We make our way towards the mounds of rocks in the far south east, the sun rising to our right. Although we've been saved by our glorious sponsors, the water doesn't make the sun any more bearable. It beats down on my already burnt face. I couldn't have been born with more tan skin? Not the complexion of a newborn with freckles?

I shake my head at the notion and call for a small rest. We're about two miles from the rocky area now. We both take enough water to dampen our throats and lightly quench our thirst.

"You think anyone is there already?" asks Hake, taking a sip of the weird green liquid. I take a dose of it and shrug.

"I don't know." Multiple scenarios race through my head. "One tribute could be there, or the whole Career pack."

Hake's hand rests on the hilt of his sword, tiny fingers curling around the handle.

"Do..." Hake's words seem to stick in his throat. "Do you think a Career killed Maggie?"

The question comes as a bit of a shock. I haven't given much thought to any of the dead tributes, regrettably, Maggie was among them.

"It's a high possibility."

* * *

**Ariel's POV**

"Ariel!" the squeaky voice nearly makes me jump. Enobaria, an ex-mentor from District 2 comes up to me with her bright golden smile sticking out from her wrinkling face.

"How are you, Enobaria?" I ask politely. I've never really been much to make friends with former Careers, but Enobaria has been kind enough to me.

"I'm doing great," she replies, taking her seat next to me. "Do you mind if I watch the Games a little with you?"

I nod lightly and she takes her seat next to me. Annie is asleep with her head in Finnick's lap and Wiress sits, dozing off as well in her old age. Geere, the youngest of us all helps himself to the food buffet behind us and rejoins us, sitting on the floor where the coffee table stands.

Night has fallen again, they show the boy from 9's face in the sky and then the only thing worth watching are the Careers hunt through the desert. They actually make their way back to the labyrinth where only one tribute, the girl from 5 has stayed behind, residing in one of the small golden horns, relying on the leftover supplies that barely keep her alive. It doesn't take much for Saskia to wake her up briefly enough to slit her throat.

"That poor girl didn't even have a chance," says Geere.

"Have you seen Saskia?" says Enobaria. "Most tributes don't stand much of a chance against her."

"Reminds me of an older tribute from 2," Finnick says, glancing at her askance. Enobaria smiles little, clearly proud of her legacy.

The Careers decide to rest for once, making fire and camp around the golden horn, resupplying with whatever they might not have picked up the first time. They only leave to let the hovercraft take the body away.

I watch Saskia sleep, shocked by how much she reminds me of Aid from my Games. A small but deadly weapon, limber and swift. She's nothing like the brutal behemoth, Rex. He's a terrifying sight.

"It's hard to believe Rex is young enough to be in these Games," I say, keeping my gaze on the television. I can see out of the corner my eye as Enobaria shrugs.

"I think he actually turned nineteen a couple of days after the Reaping."

Geere turns around,

"Wait," he says. "Is that legal? Can he still be in the Games?"

"He was eighteen when he volunteered," says Enobaria. "That's all that matters."

* * *

**Ren's POV**

I've slowly cleaned the grime off my skin. My clothing doesn't stick to me as badly and my feet no longer stink, but my clothes seem to have adapted to the reddish color of the rock, its chalky residue rubbing into the fabric. Hey, free camouflage.

For now, I've removed my shoes and rub my aching heels. My other leg hangs off the edge of the shelf, swinging freely. The early morning sun warms me from the chilling night. The nights have definitely been harder than days. I hate being cold.

I release my leg, letting them both swing off the edge of the shelf. I help myself to an apple sliced between some bread and then I take a swig of water. The food is like glue in my mouth and I keep glancing back at the hieroglyphic of Zeit back at the mouth of my bunk.

"Hm," I hum, feeling more and more lonely by the day. The only signs of life I've seen were threats to my survival, threats to my life. I want an ally, I want Maggie to be alive. I want to see Hake's baby face amidst this grainy sea of killers, including myself. I want Zeit. I want him here with me, with his calm collective composure and comforting arms.

As I'm about to throw the skeletal apple core down into the rocky canyon beneath me, I catch sight of something that isn't sand in the distance. Making their way over a large sand dune are two figures. They're like ants right now, and I'm sure they haven't spotted me yet. I slowly make my way back into my small cave, push all my bright packs to the back, lie on my stomach, load my crossbow and wait. Wait to shoot, wait to die, wait to see who may be my next victim or killer

* * *

**A/N: **I swear things will pick up once another tribute comes along...hey it's a big arena.

Also, I know the note thing was originally from the movie but I figured I'd add it.


	18. Happy Short Reunion

**Hake's POV**

My knees ache- no, everything aches. With each agonizing step through the sand which seems to get deeper and deeper, I feel as if there is almost no hope of actually reaching the rocky terrain. In reality, it isn't that far, but I just want to rest one more time.

"We're almost there, kiddo," Zeit encourages me. "Don't make have told you those stories for nothing."

The light notion of humor gives me a boost of morale, but not by much. The crimson sun seems to rise fast and then stick in the sky, as if caught in a net, a net woven by the Gamemaker's sick and twisted minds. I look up into the sky and hope my mother is watching right now, cheering me on, praying for me. I picture her face in my mind, youthful for a mother with a child at my age, her hair mostly cut short in order to have one less thing to deal with. Despite the Capitol's constant insisting, she always refused to have Avoxes come and help raise me. She needed no more help than she could provide herself, and the support of my father's family.

"Wait," Zeit interrupts my daze, grabbing hold of my shoulder. "I think I saw something."

Part of me wants to shrug it off as a mirage; it would save me the exhaustion of drawing my sword, but something in my gut tells me that Zeit might not be seeing another freakish hallucination, another fabricated mirage. It would seem logical, I mean, we are closer to a favorable location in the arena. It's high up, a great outlook, there might even be a spring in there somewhere. That's when I see it, the movement in the higher shelves of the rocks. Someone is watching us. Zeit grips his knife and I draw my sword. Immediately it is heavy in my grasp. Exhaustion and heat have taken its toll on my body, as if years of training and conditioning mean nothing at this moment.

"Be ready," I say. "Whoever it is or whatever it is, they might be able to attack from a long range."

Zeit nods, a twitch in his face indicating he had not thought of that.

"Good catch," he says, taking a step forward, as if he is ready to defend me. I'm sure they know we've noticed them by now, and are debating on what strategy to take on killing us from so far away. But as these Games have done since the beginning, I am surprised. A tiny voice calls out from the shelf.

"Zeit!" they scream, only faintly heard, but their voice echos around the rocks. There must be a canyon behind her. Zeit's knees go weak for a moment.

"Wait," I say. "This could be another trick."

"Zeit!"

The tribute stands up on the ledge and starts to wave their hands around wildly. Then they turn and almost jumps onto a platform a level lower, and then another. I notice it. The short red hair, the leap, the bounce in her step. Could it actually be Ren?

"Zeit, it's me!" she screams, making a sprint for us, or as much as one could sprint with the sand dragging our feet into its clutches. When she gets closer, I notice something that I didn't when we saw the mirages. The sand. The sand beneath her is flying up everywhere she steps, shifting with her weight, her weight! She is real!

"Zeit! Look at the sand!" I say. "It's her!"

He doesn't wait a second more. Zeit drops his knife and raced towards her, a second wind rising up in him. I follow behind, but not nearly as fast as him.

"Zeit!"

"Ren!"

They scream for each other and then nearly knock the other to the ground when they collide. Ren leaps into Zeit's arms and he spins her around, both of them laughing uncontrollably. I think Ren is crying. Finally, Zeit's legs give out and they tumble into the sand, Ren strewn across Zeit. She buries her face in the crook of his neck and starts crying for sure. By the time I've caught up, Zeit has sat them both up, stroking Ren's hair, holding her tightly as she gains her composure. I can't help but sense the sheer earnest truth in their friendship. They finally pull apart and Ren's face is caked with sand other than the tear streaks that stripe her face. Zeit brushes off the grains, places a gossamer kiss on her forehead, and smiles wider than I've ever seen since the Games started.

I blink.

It's the most emotion I've seen Zeit express at all actually.

"It's great to see you Ren," I say, hating to break up their reunion, but not wanting to feel left out. Ren stands up from Zeit's lap and picks me up in a tight hug, remarkably strong for a small girl, but I guess she does have a good five years on me.

"I missed you too Hake," she says, letting me down. "It's great to see you both."

Zeit walks up and I hand him the knife he dropped.

"Perhaps we should retire to someplace not in the open," says Zeit. Ren nods.

"All my supplies are up in that shelf there." She points up to the rocky area where we spotted her. We all compose ourselves and start to set out when the sand storm blow us onto our backs.

* * *

**Ren's POV**

The wind feels like a thousand needles as it drives me into the ground. I don't even have time to put my goggles over my eyes. Sand has already filled my eyes, nostrils and mouth. There's a firm grasp around my wrist. I can't even tell who it is, but I quickly feel the envelopment of rough cloth all around me, the wind causing it to slap back and forth against my face, driving the sand into my skin.

"Cover your nose!" I hear Hake scream over the shrieking winds. I can't see anything, I don't even know where anyone is, or if Zeit is still with us, but I pinch my fingers over my nose and shut my lips as hard as I can. No one speaks, no one moves. If I was the only one not suffocated under sand I wouldn't know it. I wouldn't even be able to hear a cannon if there was one. I just wait. Wait to see or hear anything other than the sting of sand and the deafening winds.

After what seems like an eternity, the white noise of the storm dies down, leaving my ears to ring, also filled with grainy earth. Who ever has held my wrist this whole time finally moves, the first to sit up. It's Hake. He stands up, shaking off the mounds of sand. I spit out as much as I can and shake it out of my hair. Zeit rises nearby, having been almost completely buried.

"Dear god," he says. "That came out of nowhere!"

Hake nods and accounts for all their belongings. Everything appears to be accounted for accept for Zeit's knife. I blink tears out of my eyes, trying to see more clearly around us. The desert appears to have been re-sculpted. There are new foothills where others were not and vice versa, and everything looks so smooth and polished. Perfect. A perfect wasteland.

But then I see them, hastily making their way in our direction and gaining fast. It can only be one thing, the Career pack. And my weapons, supplies, everything, are way to far out of my reach for my own good.

"Guys," I say, unease creeping into my voice. "It's them."

Hake turns just in time to dodge an arrow that flies past his head. He redraws his sword and takes a stance. We're in for a very unfair fight.

* * *

**A/N:** I've really written myself into a corner here :-P Now it seems hopeless! HOPELESS I TELL YOU! *dramatically falls onto convenient sofa, arm draped over eyes*


	19. Trails in the Sand

**Hake's POV**

They move like a pack of wolves on the hunt, their varied weapons at the ready. I reach into my pack and toss a knife to Zeit. Another arrow flies at us, barely missing me. The Careers, although missing Zeus, they are still fearless, ferocious and bloodthirsty.

"Ren, do you have a weapon?" I ask, turning to her briefly. All the color has drained from her face and she shakes her head.

"They're all back at my camp," she says slowly.

"Should we run?" Zeit asks, but there's no time to answer that question. Rex has gotten ahead of the group and lunges at me with his sword raised high, I leap back, blocking the blow with my own blade. Saskia snakes her way to Zeit, two daggers in hand.

"Ah!" Zeit cries, trying to doge Saskia's maneuvers. She moves like a snake, and she's barely slowed by the thick sand. I quickly revert my attention to Rex, who's attacks have not faltered nor weakened. I'm all on the defense against this scarred bulk of a teenager. Amber has tossed aside her bow in exchange for a long curved sword that had been hanging off her hip and goes for the only member of our team left: Ren.

I can't watch them. I can't jump in to help Ren. I've got Rex's weight all but slamming me into the sand. My small feet sink so quickly through the grainy ground, sparks flying between his sword and mine. Hot red sun beats down on us, remnants of the sandstorm sting my eyes and dry my tongue, crunching between my teeth as I grit them in my struggle against my opponent.

It's too much. I'm too small. I've always been too small, as hard as I've tried to compensate, speed, stealth, intelligence. In the end, brute strength is what will win these Games. Endurance, toughness. Not cunning, not wisdom, and certainly not humanity.

A cannon goes off and my heart plummets. Everyone stops for a fraction of a second, but it only takes us a moment to realize it wasn't for any of us. There's a bit of irony to this, and in the fit of confusion, Zeit reacts first and lunges forward onto Saskia, delivering a hard right hook into her jaw. This Amber off guard and it seems her first instinct is to help Saskia, but then Ren jumps on top of her back and forces her face down into the sand. I hear the sword cut through the air and move away just a little to late. Rex's sword slices across my shoulder and cuts to my collarbone. The pain is unfathomable and I fall to my knees, raising my sword just in time to block another blow, but it strikes hard and I fall back more. I roll out of the way just in time for Rex' sword to come down right where my face would have been. The sand rubs into my wound and I grit my teeth harder.

Get past the pain, Hake, get past it!

Out of the corner of my eye, red splatters across the sand and a cannon fires moments after. Rex stops and his gaze widens in fury and shock as Zeit stands, face splattered with blood, pale knuckles stretched across one of Saskia's daggers. Where his knife went, I don't know. Rex takes one last look at me. A sharp pain strikes me across the side of my head and everything goes black.

* * *

**Zeit's POV**

I seem to have forgotten about the blood across my face until Ren points it out with her undamaged hand. I'm not sure what thought process Rex had gone through, but when he saw that I had killed Saskia, I thought I was done for. There would have been no way in hell I could have taken him on. Instead, he went for Ren who had been trying to suffocate Amber in the sand and was sort of winning actually, but when she saw Rex charging at her, she'd leaped out of the way just barely in time. He almost took off her head, but instead caught her hand, and then grabbed Amber and ran out of there. Strange, he probably could have taken both Ren and I down with ease with Hake knocked out cold.

Somehow we've managed to get back to where Ren had been camping, dragging an unconscious twelve-year-old with a severe laceration. Ren was trying her best to keep from crying from the pain in her destroyed hand that had driven a deep gash into her palm and taken off her ring finger and pinky. There's no way she'll be able to use that hand again, unless by chance she wins and the Capitol pretties her up for the world.

"How's the bleeding?" I ask, while trying to remove Hake's shirt. Ren just shakes her head, biting her lip. She's ripped off a good chunk of her cloak in order to wrap a tight enough bandage around it. I can't tell if it's bled through though because she's curled herself around her hand in a fetal position. Like biting on a toothache I suppose.

"I don't know if I have anything that can properly staunch this wound," I say, trying to keep a steady voice. All we had was a simple first aid kit. I've taken some alcohol wipes and cleaned out his wound. I would offer the rest to Ren, but I'm legitimately concerned she could bleed out. She's already lost a lot of blood and we did a piss poor job of covering up our tracks. Thankfully we have a decent vantage point in case anyone tries to follow us.

Now that I think of it, apart from the fact that the trail is most of Ren's bodily fluids spewed out onto the sand, it could make for a decent trap. If Rex and Amber try to come back for more, I could just snipe them from this high up with Ren's crossbow. There's no way she can use it in her condition now. I fear she may not even last that long anymore, not with those injuries.

"Is he going to be ok?" she asks with a voice so small. My attempt to wrap him up in gauze is severely lacking in any strategic pattern, but I manage to tightly cover the wound before answering.

"Honestly," he said. "You should worry about yourself more. You've lost a lot more blood. Have you been drinking enough water?"

With her free hand, Ren holds up her bottle which swishes with about a fourth of the liquid it once had, which is good, but she needs to drink more. I remember the strange green liquid and motion for Ren to hand me her bottle. Once she does, I fill it half way with the last of the strange elixir and give it back to her.

"What is that?" she asks, peering into the bottle.

"We're not sure," I reply. "But it kept us alive when we were without water in the desert. Perhaps it will hydrate you faster."

Ren nods and takes slow sips of the strange tasting but diluted drink.

Night has fallen and the Capitol Anthem blares across the arena. The blue moon is in its waning phase, making the holograms in the sky easier to see. Of course, Saskia is the first to show up, and then the boy from 11. I wonder how he died.

I think about that girl from 2 and have to hand it to her. She was a fierce fighter. If it weren't for that cannon, she probably would have sliced my throat open with a smile on her face.

I use Ren's lantern to examine her hand once we're confident it's stopped bleeding. The fabric peels off her open flesh, reopening parts of the wound. I nearly wretch at the sight, but for Ren's sake, I have to keep my head. I try to clean it as best as I can and then rip off a long strip from my cloak. Ren's wince sparks a pang of guilt in me as I wind it around her tattered hand and finger stumps. Tears start to well up in her eyes and I take her face in my hands.

"Ren, don't cry," I whisper, looking dead into her eyes. "You can't cry, not here. I know it's hard." I press my forehead to hers. "I know its hard, but you have to stay strong. Sponsors won't like us if we look weak."

She sniffles and leans into my touch.

"I know," she says, her voice cracking. "Zeit, I'm so scared..."

"I know," I repeat, stroking her cheek with my thumb. "It's a scary place. But we can make it."

"No we can't," she says curtly. "Only one can get out."

I squeeze my eyes shut at this harsh reality. Perhaps she's taking it better than I am. I've just been pushing it to the back of my mind until now, but she's right. Only one of us will make it out.

And I would rather it be her than me, but I'm also terrified to die.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I. Am. SO. Sorry. For neglecting this fanfiction. I'm kind of in college now (well on summer break but that's how long it's been) so I haven't been able to write as much as I would love to. I promise though, I WILL finish this!

Love, Rei


	20. Smile for the Camera

**Ren's POV**

I'm a freak now, with maybe half of a hand left. The constant pain is near unbearable, but I can't cry. I can't show weakness, not now, not this far into the Games. There's only five of us left. The audience may be tied over with that fight against the Careers, but the Gamemakers will get bored quickly. They always do, and when they do, they'll cook up some way to get us all together again. Maybe a Feast, maybe another trap, whatever it will be, it will be big and it will be hard.

The chill of the desert night reaches my bones as I curl up closer to Zeit who's keeping watch at the current moment. Hake woke up about an hour ago, but briefly went back under due to blood loss and fatigue. We think he's stable. Hopefully.

"Who would have thought we'd end up being an ally for a typically fierce district," he says aloud, glancing down at me.

"Who would have thought we'd end up in the Games at all," I add. His expression changes to the you've-got-a-point face, and then turns back to the desert once more.

"It's so quiet," I say, nuzzling closer to his heat. "It feels like we're alone."

His arm shifts a little as if to pull me closer, but he just rests it on his lap instead and takes an exasperated breath.

"But we're not," he says. "We're never alone." He gives a little chuckle. "Smile for the camera."

If it were any other time, I might actually smile. I might show a little hope that I won't die some agonizing death or come out of the Games scarred for the rest of my life. But I don't smile. In fact, I have to bite my lip again, swallow the feeling rising in my throat, look up to hold back tears, and put on the mask all over again. And Zeit notices.

"Is your hand bothering you?" he asks, reaching over to gingerly take my heavily bandaged arm and examine it.

"It's always bothering me," she said. "I'm missing two fingers and I can't move the other three." I pause. "He must have cut the tendon or something."

"Most likely," Zeit agrees. "At any rate, it's getting late. Why don't you try to get some rest? You've lost a lot of blood."

I shift a little into his frame, laying my head on his shoulder. In turn, he wraps his arm around me and rests his head atop mine.

"I miss-" I can't seem to get out the right word. Home. District 3. Suddenly, anything outside of this arena sounds more pleasant.

"Me too," says Zeit, shifting to place a soft kiss on my forehead. "Me too."

* * *

**Ariel's POV**

I can't help but stay up and watch the night hours of the tributes. My son is still out cold from his injuries. Meanwhile, watching the tributes form District 3 just confuses me. Geere watches the night hours with me. Wiress has been in bed for hours, what with her old ages. But Geere is young and spritely. He's not even tired.

"So, what's the deal with your tributes?" I finally ask. "Are they an item or what?"

Geere laughs and takes a drink from the glass in front of him.

"To be honest, I don't know," he says. "I know they knew each other before the Reaping, so it's very possible they are just very good friends. As for something more, hell if I know. They've always had a sort of closeness about them that no one could really translate to either affection or friendliness."

I look back to the television screen and watch District 3 nuzzle close to each other against the cold desert night.

"For their own sake, I hope they're not a couple," I say. "It will only make their death or deaths harder."

Geere raises an eyebrow and glances over at me. No doubt at the harsher than intended comment I had made. But it's true, and I would know.

"What?" I say dully. "Am I wrong? There's not going to be two winners again. That was a fluke. It won't happen for as long as the Games exist."

"I seem to remember you being significantly more pleasant to be around before these Games," says Geere. "Or at least you displayed more diplomacy before."

I give a scoff and lean back, disinterested at the television that now displays the careers snoozing under a sand dune.

"When someone you love is reaped, come back and tell me how hard it is for you to stay hopeful."

Geere doesn't say anything after that. I imagine he's at least giving me the respect of silence after what I've been through and am still going through.

He doesn't even know the half of it.

* * *

A/N: Short one this time. Trying to make a decision about the outcome of these Games that I probably should have decided a while ago...oops.


End file.
